Velcrometer
Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks
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M. Giant's Velcrometer Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks |
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Tuesday, April 23, 2002 Sorry about yesterday. I guess I should tell you that every once in a while, I'm going to have a work day when I don't have time to update. On account of having to, you know, work. It won't happen very often, unless I get promoted or something. Let me say that I'm gratified by the reaction to the Osbournes/Trading Spaces thingy. Unfortunately, I'm pretty much out of ideas--I mean, transcript excerpts*, so I'm calling it a wrap. Pretty much all that happens from now on is that Frank joins Jack and Ty's little pot party and they all trade eyewear. And just before the reveal, Paige tells the Osbournes that "at least your problems with pet accidents are over." And Hildi bites Paige's head off. The whole rest of the epsiode is pretty boring. In real-life news, our half-serious quest to get our house ready to put on the market just got a lot more serious. Yes, the house next door sold at an obscene price. The "sold" sign was up when we got home on Thursday afternoon. Now Trash and I have to decide whether we can afford to not cash in and clear out. On the one hand, we have a list of about sixty projects we should do before we can bail. Some of them will take twenty minutes, and some will take a week. On the other hand, the place is in better shape than it was when we bought it. But then, back on the first hand, we practically stole it back then. And, still on the first hand, there's probably some kind of Midwestern work ethic prohibiting us from raking in a hundred thousand bucks of pure profit without putting a little effort into it. Especially when we can rake in two hundred thousand bucks of pure profit by putting in more work. On an entirely different, third hand, buying a house is a pain. Moving is a pain. Giving up our short commutes would be a pain. And unless we build, we're probably going to have to fix and redecorate our new house, which will be (say it with me) a pain. Factor in all of the sweat equity we've already invested, the potential to wipe out all of our non-mortgage debt, the possibility that a huge real estate windfall could allow one or both of us to take a leave of absence from work, and this situation has more hands than a Catholic priest. Pretty much the only way out of this is to figure out how much it's worth to us to go through all this headache, and then try to establish whether selling would net us that amount or more. Of course, it's rather difficult to put a dollar value on how much we love our house and our neighborhood. But we can't wait forever, because if the sale price of the house next door indicates anything, it's that we're on the edge of a bubble. If we're going to collect the big payoff (which we haven't decided to do yet, in case that isn't clear), we'll need to do it within the next year or less, before property values in our neighborhood pull a "dotcom stock." Yeah, poor me. I'm sitting on a house that's worth too much. Boo freaking hoo. * For the last time, not really. posted by M. Giant 10:17 AM 0 comments 0 Comments:
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