I decided this was going to be the year I finally move out. I moved back home to New York in the summer of 2004, and that, amazingly, was almost eight years ago now. Of course, now I’m faced with the very real possibility that I don’t earn enough yearly to buy a place of my own, at least not anyplace nice, in New York. I’m looking at down payments I quite possibly can’t afford on mortgages I quite possibly won’t get, which run for decades longer than I quite possibly want to live there, and that’s even before property taxes and interest rates and monthly expenses. But still, I got in touch with a realtor in Queens a few days ago, and I’ve said I’ll try to call her tomorrow, even though that might prove difficult at work.
This was so much easier when I was just renting an apartment, and when I was dealing with central Pennsylvanian prices.
Beyond that, and all the talk on Twitter and elsewhere about SOPA and PIPA, it was a pretty ordinary day.