Or, at least, as ours as a rented house can be.
I picked up the keys to the house today from our new landlord. For some reason, the whole idea of moving into the house is a little surreal. Perhaps I’ve grown too rooted to and spoiled by our current residence. There is no doubt that I’ll miss this little piece of luxury I’ve had for the past five years. I’ll manage. With luck (and a few lottery tickets?), we’ll be able to buy a house of our own by the time our lease comes due next May.
When I got home tonight, I got an earful from our neighbor about my choice to rent instead of buy. The conversation gave me second thoughts about choosing not to buy a house, but I think I’ll get over it. Particularly if I go back to read a few of the articles written about the San Diego housing market over the last few months.
