math is hard.

i had a belly full of butterflies this afternoon.


because i sent an email.

to a real estate agent.

about viewing a house.

not about buying a house, just viewing a house.

the mere thought of setting foot in a building with a sign on its lawn sent me into a bit of a spin.

i've been a renter for half of my life ... first at university, then in the city, and now in my hometown. and i'm a serially monogamous renter ... in the past 17 years, i've lived in 4 apartments* in 3 buildings. i've been in my current home for 5 years this past tuesday.

as a single female with an active imagination, i like the security of living in a building with a few dozen other people who would hear me scream if someone tried to kidnap me. i like knowing it's 7:30am because the little boy down the hall is running by my door on his way to daycare. i like having a superintendent who checks on me if my car hasn't moved in a couple of days and lets me know when the snowplow is ready to clear my parking spot. i like the comfort of knowing that, if my toilet were to explode tomorrow, it is not my responsibility to fix it.

but then i do the math. and when i do the math, buying makes sense.

i rent an apartment. and an office. and those costs combined could be the mortgage on nice little house, plus some extra money to renovate or travel or (*gasp!*) save.

or replace an exploded toilet.

or fix a cracked foundation.

or remove a tree from the attic after a tropical storm.

or invest in an exorcist when i realize the house is haunted.

or pay for the anxiety meds i would obviously need to be a functioning homeowner.

but i could have a dog.

ugh ... math is hard.

*okay, it's actually 5 apartments in 4 buildings ... but the few months i lived with an ex-boyfriend in a cursed apartment in clayton park don't count. because i said so.


pulling the trigger.

so, we're diving right into this.

there's no fluff in this post ... because i'm not in a fluffy mood. maybe tomorrow i'll feel fluffy. but not today.

yesterday, i alluded to a bout of ennui that's been bothering me for a few days. that ennui has a name ... it's grief.

my dad died a year and a half ... well, 15 months, 2 weeks and a day ... ago.

the initial grief made sense to me. i was heartbroken. i missed him. i was relieved. i felt guilty for being relieved. i went through all the stages and moved on as best i could. as you do.

it's the surprise rogue waves of grief that occasionally send me sprawling i find hard to manage.

they don't happen often, but they do happen. out of the clear blue ... like a tsunami on a sunny day. and one is happening right now.

and the small rumble that triggered that tsunami?

i don't follow many famous people on social media ... but i do follow a canadian singer on twitter and instagram.

i met her in may when she performed in my hometown. we had a moment when i told her my mom has dementia, like her parents. she had just placed her dad in a nursing home. and i'd been down that road with both my mom and dad.

we're members of a really shitty club.

a couple of days ago, i saw a tweet. she was rushing home to alberta, trying to reach her dad before he died. and something in me cracked.

and the grief came rushing in.

i wasn't prepared for it, and i was knocked on my ass and left gulping for air.

and so, i've been a hermit for the past 3 days, dealing. working from home, watching horrible daytime television, taking deep breaths and dealing.

but i can feel the tide ebbing and soon the grief will ease. i'll break out of the inertia of sad and rejoin my life.

i am heartbroken. i miss him. but i'm moving on the best i can.