Well, it’s been a hell of a time these last several weeks. We’re in the midst of a global pandemic, we just bought a house, and we have a burgeoning 7-month old. The homebuying process has been…enlightening? Terrifying? Anxiety-inducing? (All of the above.)
Things real estate agents like to say about buying a home: "pay yourself," "build equity," "wealth generation."
Things I like to say about buying a home: "pay other people, a lot, to do a lot of work to your house, that you just bought," "watch all of your money disappear," and "wealth destruction."
OK, I’m being dramatic. We spent 3 years saving for a 15% down payment for a house in Northern VA, which is a lot of money. Came to 3 days before closing, and this is when stuff is getting real with COVID and the fed slashes interest rates. We ask our bank to cut our rate, and they actually do it. 3% for 30 years baby. What starter home? The net result of this is that our mortgage, even after property taxes and homeowner’s insurance, is significantly less than our rent was in Arlington, and we have just under 2x more space. That’s all good.
And I do think, despite our dishwasher being broken, our stove being broken, a moisture issue in the basement, and finding out that we need a new roof, that we got a pretty good deal on our newly renovated 50s rambler. It’s a dump, but it’s our dump. Says the insurance adjuster (probably the only person in this entire process who has no personal financial opportunity to gain here) who looks at the roof after we saw some shingles land in the yard: "I think your inspector missed some things." No shit.
That’s the rub of this whole thing, the full effects of the worst and best parts of capitalism are on display. Surely, you would think, that home inspectors are impartial observers acting in your (the buyer) interests, until you consider that if every home sale were busted by a bad inspection, there would…be no home inspectors, because every home would sell as-is. It is kind of mindblowing, because everyone only gets a piece of the pie if the sale goes through; Smith’s invisible hand nudging everyone involved toward closing. The more you think about it, the closer you get to having an aneurysm.
When you rent, you don’t really notice anything. When you buy, you notice everything. Like, everything. You’ll see a 1mm crack in the paint. It all becomes very real. I guess that’s why it is…real…estate.
We’re getting settled in. We wanted the newly-finished basement to be an office and TV area, potentially a guest room, and we’re getting pretty close to making that a reality. TBD on the moisture, but it’s in a bathroom that wasn’t redone as part of the renovation, and we think a bad downspout (that we have since fixed temporarily with an old shower curtain and some duct tape) was the culprit.
The better half put a bunch of stuff on the walls and it’s starting to look like a home and not a house, which I think is all anyone could ask for. I was able to convince her to let me buy and put up a Kelsey Smith print, which if you’re into the vaporwave/retrowave aesthetic, you might already be familiar with her work even if you don’t know it.
Finally, the City of Fairfax seems like a great place to be, and we look forward to getting out and about and supporting some of the local restaurants when things go back to normal, so 2027, basically. All the more time to work on a dedicated Tim Allen Home Improvement "EEEUGH?" button, amirite?