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One day, I just snapped. I was tired of my property manager sending me smarmy emails. Between putting padlocks on our dumpsters, emails about people smoking doobies or the fucking ants that took over my kitchen that they never took care of, I was sick of it. After finding out via a Craigslist ad for another apartment in our building that they were increasing our rent and pet fees for a third consecutive year (they never told us they were doing this but then admitted to their plans when we called and asked), me and the Mrs. decided to scrape together some cash and start looking for a new place to live.
I loved this apartment. But the original property manager left us with this trollish looking woman who would show up unannounced. The people that lived in our complex were mostly grad students or young professionals, so it wasn’t a complete shithole, but living with an adult version of an RA got very tired at 26.
Are you tired of paying rent? I know I was. Every day, I see statistics about our generation’s low home owning percentage. It really grinds my gears, knowing my parents and grandparents bought a four bedroom, two and a half bathroom house on a bus driver’s salary with four kids. My grandmother didn’t get her license until she was 47 because they could subsist on this. Me and the Mrs. make enough to be in the top 10% in our state, but between student loans and other bills, we had to take out our entire life savings for a meager down payment.
You know what? I’d do it all again. Originally, we were looking at getting a house. Anything in our price range was so antiquated it looks like the Brady Bunch was filmed there. I was poking around and found something I never thought I’d be into: the townhouse.
The townhouse gets a lot of flak. I held my nose up at it thinking I was above it. “It’s too much like an apartment” (sometimes I can hear one of my neighbors throw up from either drinking too much or from morning sickness because they just had a baby), “What if there’s a fire?” and “I NEED a house because society tells me I need it.” After curbing my attitude and checking the bank, I realized a townhouse isn’t a bad avenue.
If you’re tired of paying rent, have a snarky landlord or are sick of rent increases, look no further. Our mortgage is actually around $200-250 cheaper than rent. There is a first-time homebuyer assistance that lets you have around 3% of a down payment and you can waive the PMI insurance if you’re worried about not having the 20%. The peace of mind knowing that your landlord won’t come in mid-coitus or if you happen to create certain smells or leave anything suspicious in the open, the police won’t be waiting for you to return home. Nobody but the bank can evict you from your own house, and the only people who show up unannounced are the in-laws or our redneck neighbors.
Coming home and doing whatever you want without fear of losing a security deposit was more than worth it for me. Sometimes things get broken, spilled or are in need of general repair. It’s nice not being at the mercy of some lackey that will redneck engineer it, only for it to break and create a giant mess later and cause you to lose your entire security deposit. I wish this wasn’t based on a true story.
I don’t plan on being where I am forever, but it’s great knowing I have a backup plan for if my life fails down the road and an investment property. Buying real estate in a college town ensures you will rarely lose money. We can rent our place for much more than we pay for it.
It’s also a fun project for yourself, friends, spouses, etc. to work on a place together and make it your own. I’ve put in blueberry, blackberry and raspberry bushes as well as a grape vine at mine, and we’ve already recruited friends to help build and then enjoy a fire pit and garden this spring. The Mrs. repainted half the place because the people before painted half the rooms throw-up Tennessee orange that we couldn’t sit with. Making it your own is the name of the game.
I’ve lived in my townhouse for around six months now. Sure, it’d be great to have a house in the county with limitless land, a pond, a gun range and whatever else I decide I want in my dream home. Maybe one day; but as a postgrad balling on a budget, the #Townhouselife is what I live and what I rep. .
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