Being a grown-up sucks

The longer I stay in this town, the more I think about buying a house. I resisted before because I kinda liked the idea of being like a gypsy and being able to move with short notice. One junk room later, I realize that I can't pick up and move as quickly as I'd like.

My mom would love for me to buy a house and always has stories about friends, family and even people we don't like buying houses: So and so has a media room in her house and her husband's leukemia has come back. Your cousin bought a house and he doesn't even have a college degree. Your sister bought a house and she doesn't even have a job. A house down the street is for sale and it has a garage apartment for your mother-in-law. I'll buy your bedroom set or a living room set if you buy a house. Build your house in the lot next to ours. I saw your former classmate's house; it's appraised at more than $300,000.

So you can see why I am not inclined to continue living in the same town as this woman, but I still can't help look at house listings in the paper. And then I found myself thinking, "Hmm, this house should be cheap," after reading that some doctor had drowned in her pool. They think it's a homicide so I thought that might keep people away from buying her house. What turned me off? The $6,000+ taxes she paid on it. That's $3,000 less than what I paid (OK, Richard paid) for my car.

So I'll remain a renter for now. My neighbor hasn't bugged me in a while, so I don't mind it so much. In the mean time, I'll pray that Dan'l becomes a child star so he can support me and then I'll write a tell-all book to pad my income.