Once upon a time, when I was 19, I was caught in quite the catch 22. I had been offered an internship in San Francisco that I couldn’t accept until I got funding. The funding wouldn’t be awarded without an internship. Eventually it all worked out and I got the fellowship, the internship, and spent the summer in San Francisco.
Now I am in a more adult version of the same game. I can’t look at properties without a letter from a mortgage company. So I got one, but it isn’t a great mortgage product. Then I sent that over to another broker and asked for help. Can you find something comparable? He said, I might, but bring your price point down.
So now I’ve gone back to my realtor and said, even though I’ve been approved up to 160K, can we bring it down to 130K? Any idea what is available for 130K on the northside of chicago? Not a hell of a lot. But there are condos available.
On Monday I am meeting my realtor and we are hitting the road and looking at condos. I am very exciting and staying focused on making this happen. At the same time I am also looking around my apartment and deciding what will go with me when I move into my own home.
I probably don’t need my blue basketball player M&M dispenser. I can move the sectional from the basement to the alley and say goodbye to my tie to Dream Group at Fort Lewis College. The bookshelves will all go with me, but the odds and ends collection of end tables left from my last roommate won’t.
Spidey knows something is up, I think. The two empty boxes in the living room are speaking to him. He knows that when I start collecting boxes, nothing good is around the corner. Just stress for him and sweating for me.