Honestly, I don't know how single investors do it. If by some miracle I'd started this five years ago, I would have given up long before I talked to my first seller, or before I'd made my first offer.
"What? I've got to contact two dozen realtors to get access to the MLS system? Screw that--I'm working on my novel."
But naturally, I would first try to beat the next level of Call of Duty, which would lead to three beers and a couple of Hot Pockets, four more levels of CoD, and then an episode or so of South Park before I passed out on the couch and my roommates pulled the old shaving cream in the hand trick. In the morning I'd curse my lack of focus and just as quickly find something incredibly important to do, like check all the message boards for when the next version of my PDA was coming out because, you know, you can't get into business without a PDA.
I'm not even joking--that's exactly what I would do. What I have done.
Ah, but God knew what He was doing. Somehow, against all odds, he defeated my highly sopisticated defense mechanism designed to exempt myself from all forms of motivation or optimism. He crafted the perfect woman to slip through my defenses, neutralize all my superficial deal-breakers, and get me to buy that ring. Moreover, merely a year later she's got me making lists, setting goals, following through and liking it. I have no idea how she did that.
She's a totally unconventional woman. By the World's wisdom, she shouldn't even be able to spell her own name. She comes from a family of fundamentalists who think if I'm not the antichrist, then I merely serve him. She was homeschooled, just as her six siblings where homeschooled. She never went to college, but somehow she ended up with a wall full of awards and recognitions. When she won a $50,000 tax-free journalism fellowship, the White House (yes, the White House) sent her a note of congratulations. She's flown in stunt planes, covered overnight yacht races, and ghost-written for Congressmen who, in comparison, make me wonder how they manage to tie their own shoes. If she has any flaw, it's her spelling, yet she has recently landed a job-on-the-side starting an REI newsletter. Go fig.
However, her optimism is almost entirely unregulated, and that's where we run into problems. Our current situation is just such a problem. "We must buy a house," she said almost two years ago. It's the responsible thing to do, she said. It makes sense.
So we bought a condo at the top of the market, with almost no knowledge of what the market was doing, with barely and understanding of what "equity" even was. She's a native of the area, and she's seen property values rise year after year after year. How could we lose?
I have yet to see her in a situation that could cause her to pause and reconsider her abilities or knowledge. We've had a few meetings or networking situations where we were just winging it. She didn't even understand all the words she was using, but it seemed to work. We got business cards, leads, credibility and new vistas of opportunity opened up for us. I just sipped my coffee and watched as she did the business.
Her optimism is a force for good and frightening destruction. And I'm married to her.
Whatever our future holds, I'm sure that she will be a driving force in it. I'm just along for this ride. I try to pull my weight, but this woman, who is now five months pregnant and a mere 110 pounds, is the house-keeping, comp-finding, dinner-making, baby-gestating, newsletter-founding, God-fearing, husband-inspiring dynamo. If I can find any consolation in my relatively passive role here, it is this: only a man with the heart and strength of Achilles can possibly hope to keep up with her. So far, I'm still on my feet.
"What? I've got to contact two dozen realtors to get access to the MLS system? Screw that--I'm working on my novel."
But naturally, I would first try to beat the next level of Call of Duty, which would lead to three beers and a couple of Hot Pockets, four more levels of CoD, and then an episode or so of South Park before I passed out on the couch and my roommates pulled the old shaving cream in the hand trick. In the morning I'd curse my lack of focus and just as quickly find something incredibly important to do, like check all the message boards for when the next version of my PDA was coming out because, you know, you can't get into business without a PDA.
I'm not even joking--that's exactly what I would do. What I have done.
Ah, but God knew what He was doing. Somehow, against all odds, he defeated my highly sopisticated defense mechanism designed to exempt myself from all forms of motivation or optimism. He crafted the perfect woman to slip through my defenses, neutralize all my superficial deal-breakers, and get me to buy that ring. Moreover, merely a year later she's got me making lists, setting goals, following through and liking it. I have no idea how she did that.
She's a totally unconventional woman. By the World's wisdom, she shouldn't even be able to spell her own name. She comes from a family of fundamentalists who think if I'm not the antichrist, then I merely serve him. She was homeschooled, just as her six siblings where homeschooled. She never went to college, but somehow she ended up with a wall full of awards and recognitions. When she won a $50,000 tax-free journalism fellowship, the White House (yes, the White House) sent her a note of congratulations. She's flown in stunt planes, covered overnight yacht races, and ghost-written for Congressmen who, in comparison, make me wonder how they manage to tie their own shoes. If she has any flaw, it's her spelling, yet she has recently landed a job-on-the-side starting an REI newsletter. Go fig.
However, her optimism is almost entirely unregulated, and that's where we run into problems. Our current situation is just such a problem. "We must buy a house," she said almost two years ago. It's the responsible thing to do, she said. It makes sense.
So we bought a condo at the top of the market, with almost no knowledge of what the market was doing, with barely and understanding of what "equity" even was. She's a native of the area, and she's seen property values rise year after year after year. How could we lose?
I have yet to see her in a situation that could cause her to pause and reconsider her abilities or knowledge. We've had a few meetings or networking situations where we were just winging it. She didn't even understand all the words she was using, but it seemed to work. We got business cards, leads, credibility and new vistas of opportunity opened up for us. I just sipped my coffee and watched as she did the business.
Her optimism is a force for good and frightening destruction. And I'm married to her.
Whatever our future holds, I'm sure that she will be a driving force in it. I'm just along for this ride. I try to pull my weight, but this woman, who is now five months pregnant and a mere 110 pounds, is the house-keeping, comp-finding, dinner-making, baby-gestating, newsletter-founding, God-fearing, husband-inspiring dynamo. If I can find any consolation in my relatively passive role here, it is this: only a man with the heart and strength of Achilles can possibly hope to keep up with her. So far, I'm still on my feet.
2 comments:
Wait, you said she's a "native of the area"? You mean to tell me that someone is actually FROM DC?
Lies. Pure lies.
No, really--I found one. Not only that, she loves living here.
That sucks for me, of course. Given the choice between mountains and a trophy wife, she wins...but sometimes, when struck in traffic, it's a close one to call...
Post a Comment