Here’s Something…

April 19, 2008

So, here I am … in my house, except it’s an aparment, and some people think you’re lying if you call an apartment a “house,” which I get — because they are two different things.  But I don’t want to own property (I did that once before, and you have do to things like mow your own grass and replace your own furnace — and furnaces are expensive.)

So, I sold my house about ten years ago and starting living in apartments, where guys with most of their ass showing come and reset my air conditioner when I need them to; and that works for me.  My friend, Al, keeps telling me that real estate is the next “Big thing,” and I tell Al, “Order another pitcher of beer and leave me alone.” Because — while he might be right, I don’t want to own anything with upkeep.  I don’t feel permanent enough for that.

The former financial advisor in me says I must tell you that real estate is the best investment.  The person that lives in this world says, get an apartment — there’s no damned reason to fix your own dishwasher.


6 Responses to “Here’s Something…”

  1. shadodottir Says:

    I thought the answer to not having to fix my own dishwasher or mow my own lawn was getting married. Since I am the dishwasher, it put me in a fix.

    New math:
    1 husband + 3 sons = 4 people ignoring the overgrown lawn.

  2. funkmistressjoy Says:

    You know I have never — not once in my life — even touched a lawnmower? I’d probably have one of those gristly accidents that are so bizarre, they make CNN if I even tried to mow a lawn…

  3. Penny Says:

    It is my intention to never touch either a lawnmower or a tire. So far I have succeeded.

  4. I used to mow the lawn. I had a lovely little non-motorized push lawnmower, and I would get out and mow, meditatively but not well, in the mornings. There is no Texas day suitable for growing grass that is also suitable for mowing.

  5. funkmistressjoy Says:

    Lydia just made me snork coffee… Well played, Madam; well played.

  6. tigereye Says:

    You know how love is supposed to mean never having to say you’re sorry? Renting is never having to replace the water heater yourself.

    My current landlord is a great guy, but in my last apartment, I lived in a place owned by slumlords. One day I’ll tell the world about how they wanted to paint the roof of my apartment house, and they obviously went to Home Depot and said “We’ll take 50 gallons of the cheapest paint you’ve got.” So the roof of the tasteful yellow-and-white house became a shade of acid green that’s usually reserved for alien piss in the movies.

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