At some point today, I’m not sure when, my mortgage will be completely paid off. Yay! I think. I’m actually not sure what to do now.
This house was not paid off with a pot of gold.
Cue the singing angels, and unicorns sliding down a rainbow – my house is paid off. At least at some point today it will be, I just don’t know when. My plan is to stay at my computer and constantly refresh my browser until I see that the final payment has been made.
AND THEN ……. !!!!
I don’t know.
I guess I could have a glass of champagne or burn my mortgage agreement in the fireplace. That’s the sort of thing they do in movies but if the payment goes through at 9 a.m. it seems a bit silly to start drinking champagne unless I’m also wearing a feather trimmed organza house robe with matching slippers. And I don’t own any of those things including the bottle of champagne so I guess I’ll just keep a glass of ice water and an Alka Seltzer handy.
I’m toying with the idea of making up a big sign like this to put on the front lawn.
But that’s a lot of effort. I mean it took too much time just to Photoshop the sign in this picture let alone make a real one. That’s time that could be be spent deciding on what to do with all my extra money every month. Purchase a castle? Acquire a small country? Buy only organic?
I have to tell you. I thought paying off my mortgage was going to be a lot more exciting. I realize I’m part of the problem what with not having a bottle of champagne at the ready, but it’s weirdly anticlimactic. Like trying sushi for the first time.
But paying off my mortgage doesn’t mean I’m going to have mountains of money to blow. I’m just going to have a mediocre amount of money to blow.
Like maybe I could rent a dancing monkey for a week every month. Or start using premium gasoline in my car.
Or, if I want to be extremely practical and smart, every month I could invest the exact same amount of money I spent on my mortgage. Which of course is exactly what I’ll do because I am no fun.
Seriously. Zero fun. I get a lot of people comment or email me saying they wish we were friends because we’d have so much fun together. No we wouldn’t. You’d have fun and I’d be wishing you’d go home so I could get back to chopping wood and diagnosing my cat’s skin condition.
Now if I WERE a fun kind of person I’d allow myself to live a little. Maybe buy a couple of things in my first few mortgage-free months. Things I want but am too cheap to buy. Which is stupid because they’re all things I’d not only use, but probably use for a lifetime.
Like a KoMo flour mill.
Or a Dyson hairdryer.
Or 42 of these hand squirrel puppets.
I think we all know what I’d get the most use out of. I mean, as so many of us do, I already have a finger puppet stage built soooo.
The other way I could go is to finally hire someone to work for me part time. That’s a kind of investment. But everyone knows that’s not as much fun as playing out West Side Story with an all squirrel cast.
I suppose I don’t have to decide right away. I mean it’s not like they’re going to suddenly stop making squirrel puppets. They’ll be there next month if I decide to become fun Karen.
For now my extra money is going to stay in the bank safe and sound before I find out Amazon also carries sloth finger puppets.
Have a good weekend. I’ll be here constantly refreshing my computer screen.