Bah! That is all I would like to say on this topic, but apparently I need to get it out because if I have this cyclical argument with myself one more time I might just scream. No. I will cry. Yes, that’s much more accurate, I’m a total crier.
Do you know what I hate about being a grown-up? Decision making. Decision making and money. “Managing finances” is something that I am neither good at (that’s not true we actually do very well) nor interested in. BORING. Here’s a little fun fact about me, I
like need to feel like I know what I’m doing before I make a decision. It requires a lot of processing on my end, but once I’ve made that decision I get INCREDIBLY frustrated when the universe does not listen and allow me to move forward with my decision. Hence – BAH!
So, here’s how it is. The Boy and I have been married for just over 7 months. (Can we take a moment and say – seriously the wedding was 7 months ago! OMG it seems like yesterday). I’ve been working at my new job for 6 months, the Boy has had a very steady year of daily supply teaching and has basically worked almost every day. Yay! We have banished ourselves of credit card debt, we have a savings system in place, we have a rough plan as far as when we would like to start thinking about thinking about expanding our little family (it’s not any time soon so calm down). And we actually have money in savings. Great.
We also have two expensive brains and that means school debt. We live in a tiny 1 bedroom apartment. We live in an area where real estate prices are ridiculously through the roof. Seriously, we saw a cute tiny little 2 bedroom house for sale on a walk the other day, we came home to look at it on MLS and it’s listed for $499,000. Sure it’s a monster lot, but come on. That’s absurd. Do you know what’s even more absurd – the bank would probably give us the money and probably take 5% down because it’s our first house. Hey banks in Canada! Have you learned nothing from our neighbours to the south? This can’t go on. It can’t.
So the Boy and I made a decision. We would look for a rental that we could feasibly stay in for the next 3-4 years. We’ll wait out the market figuring it has to crash eventually, and if Macleans magazine
is anything to go by
(and it typically is) something like 30% of people cannot afford to stay in their homes if interest rates go up by 1-2 percent. Ideally, they will need to sell at a reasonable price and we will swoop in to pick up our very own home for what it’s worth instead of some ridonculous amount of money.
Sounds like a great plan right?
We thought so – so we made a list of our must haves (just like on TV)
- 2-3 bedrooms
- Laundry (preferably private)
- Pet friendly
- Outdoor space
- Utilities included – or a reasonable amount for rent if they are not included – or willingness to negotiate.
- In our neighbourhood or at least South of highway 9.
Do you know what we’ve found? Nothing. No, sorry not nothing. Dog patch.
We find semidetached bungalows that are everything we want except they are north of highway 9 which is affectionately known to locals as “The Dog Patch.” I don’t know much but I know when you mention “The Dog Patch” to locals, they make BIG EYES and say “Meaghan YOU CAN NOT LIVE THERE!” I know of people that have lived there who witnessed people involved in a fist fights on their front lawn on a regular basis. And I know when I drive through and look at the houses and think “it’s not that bad” something inside me says “Sure it doesn’t look that bad – but I’m pretty sure one of these sketchy people is going to steal your stroller one day”
This week we found a BEAUTIFUL apartment, 2 bedrooms, private laundry, pet friendly, outdoor space, rent + hydro (water and heat and cable included) and in our wonderful neighbourhood. Sounds perfect right? Right! It is! For now. The Boy and I would be blissfully happy there, but if we were to bring in a little, I think we would be falling over each other quite quickly. The bedrooms are teeny tiny. And I’ve heard a rumour that kids come with a lot of stuff. BAH! It’s not somewhere that I think we can stay for 3-4 years. More like 1-2. And then, what’s the point?
So what do you do when you live in a shoe? Move to a boot? Or go back and forth a million times on whether you’re making the right decision or not, and whether what you want actually exists. Right now we’re experiencing the latter. If we could find somewhere to stay long term, we could put the contents of our savings account and pay off a chunk of school loan. But if we can’t, we’re going into a mortgage that is inflated or with a weak down payment only to feel financially strapped for the rest of our lives. We just got off that train, we’ve taken that tour and I’d rather not get back on for a while – ever if I can help it.
So now what. Tell me universe what is your brilliant plan? Are you saving the perfect rental for us until the summer is over? Are you telling us to forget it all and go to New York for a splurgey vaycay? Maybe we should just go to Europe? Forget our cares, live in our little space for a little longer and then your master plan will unfold when we least expect it?
Only one problem with that brilliant plan. I suck at patience. And I really suck at “the universe will take care of it when it’s time.”
We’re planning on revisiting the only possibility we’ve seen next week. Cross your fingers we come up with brilliant storage visions.