This morning I came across an online collection of building inspectors’ photos. Crumbling foundations, rotting timbers, collapsing walls, janky “repairs” and so on. It whooshed me back to my homeowner days—which are times I’d rather not relive.
(My house wasn’t as bad as these photos, but I felt that bad.)
For most people, home ownership is a great thing, the foundation of The American Dream® (cue the patriotic music and Norman Rockwell illustrations). But for me, that foundation was cracked and leaking—both literally and metaphorically. The Dream had turned into one of those annoying, endless loop, mental short circuitings I have when I’m ill. A constant low-grade nightmare. Mixed with depression. I wanted out.
Way out. Out of the house, out of the region, out of the lifestyle, out of my corrosive lethargy.
It has been one of the best major decisions I’ve ever made.
The Money Pit...I think that movie summed up a lot of people's experience at home ownership.
ReplyDeleteI used to feel sorry for those folks thinking our lifestyle was stupid. Now days I get to see the many shapes fools come in.
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