Yeah, so...
Okay, if you have been following my journal at all, you can now call me a whiny complainer. Yes, yes you have my permission.
This afternoon I told my real estate agent to put in an offer for a townhouse. I complained and whined and bitched and moaned about how I couldn't afford to buy anything, but I apparently didn't know what i was talking about, because this place is well within my means. Two levels, two bedrooms (the master three times the size of my current bedroom, the second about one and a half the size), two bathrooms (including an en suite off the master bedroom), a "den" (I put that in quotes because it's not really a den, it's actually a large space at the top of the stairs with a window, which, when I first saw it, I knew was the writing nook I've been looking for), a cute little private patio and a little garden off a grassy courtyard (that is not a throughway), a laundry room with washer/dryer included, end unit (only neighbours on one side), views of trees out of all windows, a lap pool, across the street from a grocery store (thank god) and a pharmacy (do not put anything between me and my shopper's drug mart, I tell you), down the street from a fruit and veg market, ten minutes from a little villagey downtownish space with a nice bakery and restaurants and all that stuff, a walk to the lake, on a major bus route, and the condo fees include A/C, heat, water, and electric. Whew.
I mean, who knows. My agent is putting in a low-ball offer (14K under asking) which will likely be rejected. Maybe I'm just testing it out. Maybe I'm just seeing what it feels like to do this. Maybe I'm calling my own bluff.
But when I went to see it (I've been there twice; once with a friend, and once with my folks), I just felt...well, it felt like home. I could immediately see what I would do with it. It's quirky and a little weird, and it's in a building built in the 60s (I prefer those, because, while they tend to be ugly, they also tend to have quirkier, more interesting layouts and more square footage per unit), but I just felt good in it. I could see that I could make it super cosy and comfortable. I felt like my stuff would fit in there as if it was meant to be there.
After seeing the other condo (which was also within my budget but it was UGLY OMG), I was totally depressed because I didn't think I would ever feel like that in a place in my price range. But the weirdness of this place spoke to me. The front door is on the second level, you know, by the bedrooms. (Isn't that where everyone wants their front door?) The complex is a low-rise, but it's large and sprawling and beautifully landscaped. But you get inside and the halls are kind of dark. There are these service hallways that are just paint and concrete (storage spaces, tunnels to the pool, etc.) It's all a little crazy, but once you're inside...well, I just loved the feel of it. I loved the feeling of space inside it, with the staircase opening up the cieling up to the second floor. I got into it and thought...I could live here.
I think I've lost my mind, doing this now. But interest rates are going up, and what exactly am I waiting for, anyway? So I agreed to put in an offer. And that's my story.
To say I'm a little spazzed out about it is sort of an understatement.
This afternoon I told my real estate agent to put in an offer for a townhouse. I complained and whined and bitched and moaned about how I couldn't afford to buy anything, but I apparently didn't know what i was talking about, because this place is well within my means. Two levels, two bedrooms (the master three times the size of my current bedroom, the second about one and a half the size), two bathrooms (including an en suite off the master bedroom), a "den" (I put that in quotes because it's not really a den, it's actually a large space at the top of the stairs with a window, which, when I first saw it, I knew was the writing nook I've been looking for), a cute little private patio and a little garden off a grassy courtyard (that is not a throughway), a laundry room with washer/dryer included, end unit (only neighbours on one side), views of trees out of all windows, a lap pool, across the street from a grocery store (thank god) and a pharmacy (do not put anything between me and my shopper's drug mart, I tell you), down the street from a fruit and veg market, ten minutes from a little villagey downtownish space with a nice bakery and restaurants and all that stuff, a walk to the lake, on a major bus route, and the condo fees include A/C, heat, water, and electric. Whew.
I mean, who knows. My agent is putting in a low-ball offer (14K under asking) which will likely be rejected. Maybe I'm just testing it out. Maybe I'm just seeing what it feels like to do this. Maybe I'm calling my own bluff.
But when I went to see it (I've been there twice; once with a friend, and once with my folks), I just felt...well, it felt like home. I could immediately see what I would do with it. It's quirky and a little weird, and it's in a building built in the 60s (I prefer those, because, while they tend to be ugly, they also tend to have quirkier, more interesting layouts and more square footage per unit), but I just felt good in it. I could see that I could make it super cosy and comfortable. I felt like my stuff would fit in there as if it was meant to be there.
After seeing the other condo (which was also within my budget but it was UGLY OMG), I was totally depressed because I didn't think I would ever feel like that in a place in my price range. But the weirdness of this place spoke to me. The front door is on the second level, you know, by the bedrooms. (Isn't that where everyone wants their front door?) The complex is a low-rise, but it's large and sprawling and beautifully landscaped. But you get inside and the halls are kind of dark. There are these service hallways that are just paint and concrete (storage spaces, tunnels to the pool, etc.) It's all a little crazy, but once you're inside...well, I just loved the feel of it. I loved the feeling of space inside it, with the staircase opening up the cieling up to the second floor. I got into it and thought...I could live here.
I think I've lost my mind, doing this now. But interest rates are going up, and what exactly am I waiting for, anyway? So I agreed to put in an offer. And that's my story.
To say I'm a little spazzed out about it is sort of an understatement.
