house buying

I remember why I didn’t want to do this.

It’s like other types of shopping (which I would rather do through a computer screen), it looks good until you have to pay for it.

The image I usually associate with home buying is from the Cosby Show, when Elvin is signing away his life for the loan of his and Sandra’s first home and his hand is shaking so that he can hardly write.

Well, today – this unusually perfect, 75 degree, day of July – was spent inside taking a local “home buying” class. 9am-1pm (or a little later), with 2 quick 5 minute breaks and 3 speakers: budget/home realities lady, realtor, and lender.

After two hours it was clear this is another form of social and cultural torture – something that we generally all painfully go through; like puberty.

The basics were fine. I’ve heard the realtor schpeel before and gone through the contract. It’s actually pretty simple, though it’s nice to have someone point out the most important things.

“Yes, of course, I need an good inspector.”

Then the lender got up to speak, and it was like listening to Thai. I don’t think I could repeat anything he said. I suspect that I will be reading and rereading the loan specifics about 20 times before I put my name to it. I don’t want it to be difficult. But obviously that’s wishful thinking.

There were a lot of expectactions I used to imagine about buying a house – not the least being, I didn’t think it would be by myself. And all of that’s changed.

While advice from friends and family is wonderful, it’s not given from the same perspective and is not the same as a partner to bounce ideas off of.

I don’t want big or fancy. I want decent efficiency, comfort, quiet and a space for my dog.

I’m trying to remember when this became too much to ask for.

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