Still Single. Still White. And Now I'm Officially a Homeowner!

It's official.  I am a homeowner.  I have the keys, the garage door opener, and the crippling debt to prove it.  

As someone who has owned a home for approximately sixteen hours now, I feel that I can speak with authority when I tell you that the joy of homeownership is punctuated by moments of debilitating fear.  Part of this fear  is softened by insuring your investment.  And so I bring you my lesson on homeowners insurance.  

I learned a lot during the hour or so that I was on the phone with Carol, my friendly Traveler's Insurance Representative.  Mostly I learned that I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing.  

My conversation with Carol went a little something like this:

Carol the friendly Service Representative: "What kind of roof does your home have?"

Me: "Ummmm.....  It's really cute."

Carol: "I'm sure it is.  Wood shingle or tile perhaps?"

Me: "Yes.  Probably."

Carol: "That wasn't a yes/no question."

Me: "And you're sure 'really cute' doesn't provide you with enough information?"

Carol: *audible sigh* 

At this point I flipped through my home inspection report and found the answer.  And yes.  I felt like I complete tool that throughout the entire home buying process I'd never once thought to ask.  In my defense, I did know that the roof was still under warranty.  This has to count for something even if it was only because the selling agent told me like 47 times the first time I looked at the house.  Apparently normal, responsible people see this as a selling point.  

While Carol took down the information, I kept flipping through the inspection report, realizing how little I actually knew about my home.  MY home.  Holy crap.  It sunk in.  It was MINE.  The roof I didn't really know about.  Mine.  The hot water heater.  Mine.  The piping.  Mine all mine.  So when shit breaks, it's MY shit that's broken.  There's no landlord to call.  And if god forbid shit breaks in a catastrophic sense, a fire or a burst pipe, I'm totally screwed.  "Carol!", I cried out.  We have to insure this baby.  Now!  There's another audible sigh and Carol asks me a few things about the foundation.  I speed read the foundation section in my handy inspection report and vow to memorize every word of it.  Just as I'm learning the intricacies of my poured concrete foundation, Carol's next question stops me cold.   

Carol: "Do you plan on putting in an above ground trampoline?"

I put down the inspection report.

Me: "A trampoline....  I hadn't really considered it."

Carol: *Audible sigh*

Me: "Do I have to decide right now?"

Carol: "We can just assume 'no' for now."

Now all I can do is think about how completely bad ass it would be to own a trampoline.  

Carol: "Do you own pets?"

Me: "No.  No pets."  (I'm still thinking about where I'm going to put my trampoline.  The back patio is covered so that's out.  If I'm going to bounce, I don't want to be limited by a ceiling.  A girl's gotta be free to bounce as high as she wants.  It'll have to be the front yard then.  It would take up the whole area but it would be so worth it.  I'd be so much more than a homeowner.  I'd be a trampoline owner.)

Carol: "Do you plan on owning pets?"

Me: "Hmmmmm."  (Now I'm thinking about owning a dog.)

The dog idea consumes me.  I'm totally getting a dog.  A big one.  A lab maybe.  No.  A golden retriever.  I shall call him Balthazar.  Named for the restaurant in New York, not the nasty actor who got down with Jude Law's sloppy seconds.  But wait.  Will people think I've named my dog after the actor?  Will Balthazar get judged unfairly at the dog park?  Maybe I should go with something more traditional.  Doc.  Ooh.  That's a good one.  Like Doc Brown.  Doctor would be his full name.  Now I'm amused thinking about taking Doc to the vet.  With my last name he would be Doctor Watson.  Doc will be a playful sort of fellow.  I will come home from work and Doc will run out to greet me.  Together we will jump on my completely bad ass trampoline.

Carol: "Are you still there?"

So maybe I'm not the most detail oriented homeowner.  But Carol got me through it.  And it was an important lesson to realize how much I don't know.  I've carved out some time this weekend that'll be for just me and my house.  I'll walk through it with my inspection report and go through every nook and cranny.  I will figure out where my hot water heater is and teach myself how to shut off my gas.  Fear not, Doc.  By the time I bring you home, I will know everything I need to know to keep you safe.  

-Sarah Watson

A Single Homeowner