(Image credit: Apartment Therapy )

In less than two months, I'll not only be moving across the country and moving to the country (I've only lived in cities), I'll be moving into a house I've never seen. I have thoughts, and I'm sure you will, too...

You see, my partner is a prairie ecologist, and because the location is so remote, housing is provided. (We'll pay rent, but it will be much lower than other local options and MUCH lower than what I pay in San Francisco.) There are three houses available: one is way too teeny, one is occupied by another employee, and the third one is- I fervently hope- just right. 

Here are the things I do know about it: it's on a lovely little piece of land (surrounded by 2,000 acres of prairie), it has an impressive vegetable garden (thanks to the previous resident, though we'll be putting a lot of work into it ourselves), it has 3 bedrooms (we'll need 2 bedrooms, and will probably use the 3rd as an office/guest room), there are at least two rooms with less-than-ideal carpet...and that's all I know. And in a way, I'm grateful.

I'm grateful because I love planning, and making lists, and sketching, and daydreaming, and doing research. Maybe it's controlling, or maybe it's just how I get down. If I'd seen the house, I feel like my brain would be overflowing with color schemes and projects and budgets. I might be worried about the things I couldn't figure out a solution to and overwhelmed by the amount of work ahead of us. With all the packing and moving planning and worrying I'm already doing, I don't really have time/energy/brainpower for any more. As it is, I don't have to think about the house at all until I'm actually there and can do something about it. In the meantime, I get to be excited — with a bit of daydreaming thrown in, of course.

(Image: Lucia's Little Houses via Apartment Therapy)