Little Apartment in the City

Since my job moved to Dubuque in June, I've been thinking about what the next step is for me & my husband. My initial reaction was to start saving for a house immediately. I had a pocket full of glee at the fact that finally -FINALLY- I would be living somewhere that is cheap enough that would allow me to have a house.

I've spent the majority of my 37 years running towards the goal of house house HOUSE! I went to college so that I could have a house with a yard and a garden and a finished basement, finished attic, a garage stuffed with junk that I forgot I had, 2 or more bathrooms, guest room, dining room, living room, den, chef's kitchen, walk-in closets for clothes that no longer fit along with clothes that do. I spent my 20s waiting for my 30s, when I would be making enough money to pay off my towering and suffocating debt so that I could turn around and throw all of that extra money at a mortgage. I spent my 30s (so far) watching most of my peers moving into houses, having babies, driving cars, and me paying the same amount they were but for an apartment. A condo apartment, yes, but an apartment all the same.

And then I moved to Dubuque.

I got tenants for the condo back in Brooklyn, bought a Jeep, slapped my hands together, rubbed them, licked my lips and started a spreadsheet. How long would it take me to save up a 10% down payment for the houses that I very suddenly could afford? How about 5%, are the banks so clamped down that I can't start with 5%? What about that CD my mom bought me for Christmas years ago - should I cash that in? Maybe I should sell the condo in NY and use that money toward a down payment on a House.

And then I stopped.

I looked around the 16th apartment I've lived in over my 37 years (not counting dorm rooms) and saw that I had arranged my same old furniture in the same way I had in the last 2 apartments. As I moved from room to room (to room...and that's it, the rest is the kitchen and the bathroom), I felt pieces inside me starting to shift.

I thought about the condo back in NY. One of the reasons I moved to Dubuque in the first place is because I wasn't sure I was going to be able to hang onto the place if I stayed. My husband was recently laid off, and I was about to get laid off too. As it was, we were living paycheck to paycheck. If I got laid off too, the outlook for one or both of us getting a job soon enough and that paid enough to cover the hefty mortgage on the condo was looking pretty grim; it looked like the Great Recession was going to stay around for a while. So I rented it out and hightailed it outta there rather than face the looming probability that I would become so unoriginal as to be foreclosed upon.

I thought about the fact that here in Dubuque my rent is literally 23% of what I was paying for that condo (actually, it's 22.717885171416769929781082197439%). I thought about the fact that my husband & I are planning an overnight trip to Chicago for Christmas. I thought about the fact that we're planning on getting season tickets for the local ski slope. I wondered: if I got laid off while I'm here, what would I really lose? Overnight trips to Chicago and season ski slope passes? I can handle that.

This has been brewing for a while, but I think I'm ready to admit something out loud. I already freely announce that the thought of being a "mommy" makes me shudder. I'm pretty open about the fact that I feel not only forced into having a car, but I also feel seriously inconvenienced by it. I'm pretty sure I spent my ambition in my 20s and early 30s; I don't feel the desire to be promoted or even recognized (actually, I think what I and my colleagues do are pretty pointless in the big scheme of the world, but that's a different blog). I think I'm finally ready to say this:

I'm not sure I want a house.



PS. The photo is of my apartment in Brooklyn :)