I’m. Home.

On the eve of closing on another home purchase I am probably not feeling the level of excitement or anxiety that people usually do at times like this. Part of my  calmness could stem from the fact that in the past dozen years I have done this five times. I started young, and always felt it made more sense to own than rent.

I’ve also owned two homes in NYC, where the process of buying and selling is a complete nightmare. Co-op boards. Lawyers. Cut throat realtors. Miserable. So in comparison, buying my house in a sleepy seaside suburb of Boston was a piece of cake. There was nothing to it really. In fact, I saw the house the day it listed, and was under contract in under 24 hours. But I’m decisive like that. I get it from my father. I make decisions and stick to them — right or wrong. Buyer’s remorse isn’t really in my DNA.

Confidence, stubbornness and experience, however, are not the reasons that I’m perfectly relaxed. Neither is Ativan (I know that’s what some of you were thinking). No… it’s not that buying a home isn’t unique to me that makes tomorrow just another day. It’s the fact that buying this house, in this town, in this part of the country is right. 100%, unquestionably right. Marblehead is the place I’ve been searching for my entire life. As I moved from state to state, from east to west, from north to south I have made many homes for myself. But until I found this place steeped in history, surrounded by ocean, and situated in the the best part of New England, which is the best part of the country, I was only biding time until I got here.

I work for the best ad agency in the country. I live in the best town I’ve ever been through. Life is pretty good.

I’m a New Englander, and I’m damn happy about it. And tomorrow I’ll be home. Stop on by anytime.