Driven to the Brink

There are all sorts of things in life that motivate people to take action. Here’s one thing that is motivating us to take action: We are sick of living the apartment life!

Now, before I get too carried away, I will take a moment to stop and reflect on the living conditions of the majority of people in this world. For instance, on a missions trip to Mexico, I saw a heck of a lot of people living in cardboard boxes on the side of the road. One of the "wealthier" neighbors (wealth being a relative term, obviously) was so rich he was able to afford three garage doors propped up against each other for his house. (Don’t ask me where he found three spare garage doors to buy.) And it only takes a few moments of scanning Habitat for Humanity’s website to discover that many people would die for the opportunity to live in an apartment in the US. So, being reminded that I should be grateful for what I have, I will continue my ranting and raving. Thank you.

Two days ago it was the worst. We had to do laundry again. After searching for those ever evasive quarters, we hauled the laundry across the parking lot to the washers and dryers, only to discover that all eight of them were already being used. Sigh. There’s nothing worse than realizing you’re out of clean underwear and you can’t do laundry until the next day.

And then there’s Pam, our Apartment Nazi manager. She’s always so crass and bitter. We’re sick of dealing with her. She has no life - and takes it out on us! Last night she scolded us for parking our car in the wrong spot all weekend. Kevin, being such a NICE person, actually apologized. But when we were out of Pam’s earshot, we looked at each other and screamed, "We weren’t home either Saturday or Sunday!" I was mad at Kev for being so nice. I told him, "Makes me want to park in the wrong spot all the time. What can she do to us? Evict us for parking in the wrong spot?" Kevin said that’s a bad attitude. He’s right. That wouldn’t be the Christian thing to do. But I’m still tempted, just to irk her.

And then there’s the fact that when you live in an apartment, your car gets lined up next to many other cars while you’re sleeping several hundred feet away. This is an open invitation for all the burglars of all the bad areas of the city to come and break into your vehicle, and the other millions, all lined up in a row, and take whatever they want. Our car has been broken into three times. (We finally learned to lock the doors and take the face off our stereo, by the way.) We’ve had enough of this. It’s time to move on.

Kevin and I have collectively decided that we will buy a house soon - whatever it takes.

Honestly, it’s been frustrating. But we’ve learned a lot in our search. Here’s one valuable thing I’ve learned about California real estate: If a home description says "what a cutie" or "dollhouse!" that simply means that it’s the size of a matchbox - and you’ll still have to pay $300,000!

Yesterday we met with a lender. While we were waiting in his office for him to return, I looked down at Kevin’s pile of paperwork. Kevin loves number crunching. Most of the time, when I ask him why he’s been on the computer for hours, he’ll tell me he’s simply "finding out the state of his flocks." I noticed that he brought a calculator with him. It was sitting saliently on the top of the pile. I started laughing. "Kevin, I wonder how many people come into this office and bring their own calculators!" He retorted: "You think I’m a nerd, don’t you? You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?" Hmmm. I probably was.

Hopefully we will someday soon realize an aspect of The American Dream - a small home and a big mortgage.