In 2005, I had no business buying a house. But I felt like that was the next logical step to make me into a responsible adult.
Much like today, the market was hot. Houses were overpriced, and you had to get an offer in immediately or the house wouldn’t be available the next day.
I strongly considered a house in another part of town. But they declined my offer. When I drive by that house, even today, I wonder how my life would have turned out differently if they had accepted my offer. Because I’m so glad they didn’t.
When I walked in to house B (which was originally spotted by Kim who I am eternally grateful to because she was looking for a house too!) I fell in love with it all – it had character, fun colors, hard wood floors, two bathrooms, a fireplace, and it was walking distance to campus/football games/tailgating. Oh the fun I had!
But maybe most important to me was that it had BUILT IN BOOKCASES WITH A LADDER.
Never again will I likely have bookcases with a ladder. Even though I have since lived in bigger and nicer houses and even had bookcases installed in my current house, the ceiling isn’t high enough to warrant a ladder.
I loved my first house and easily filled up those beautiful bookcases.
But I also quickly discovered it needed work and upkeep I wasn’t capable of doing because of my lack of any type of skills in that area and being newly house poor.
Very lucky for me the location of the house (and to this day I still believe this is the case!) put me at a certain tailgate at a certain time where I met my now husband who knew how to perform upkeep on a house and fix things. I still had to listen to him complain about how much I overpaid for this house for several more years*.
Although we only lived there together for a couple of years, we kept it as a rental for several more (also a big pain, mostly for him!!). So when we finally sold it three years ago, it was a relief even for me.
On my way to the closing where I would give up my keys to a young couple, I stopped in the house one last time. I remember the way my shoes clomped on the hardwood in the empty space. I walked from room to room reliving the memories, love, children, friendship. I took one last selfie with those bookcases that ended up giving me so much more.
And even now when I drive home from the library, I take that street. And it still feels like my house, with none of the worry.
*And to my credit, that house just sold again for $20K more than I paid for it!
So the moral of the story is: yes, it is OK to buy a house for the bookcases!