I was about to rant about stupid people today; but, thinking better of myself, I decided to write regarding our decision on the condominium rather than bring up others' faults. I have them too, and it's getting pretty close to Easter.
After much deliberation, we made an offer of $67,000 on the place--asking price was $74,900. Barely a 10% difference, which is generous considering the nosedive the market has taken in the past three years. If you recall, housing was at an all-time-high in 2006; houses purchased at $25,000 30 years ago were selling (like hotcakes!) for over $1 Million. My mom bought her condo for $240,000; it sky-rocketed to $450,000 a year later. Within three years, foreclosures, bankruptcy, and a general flushing of the economy created a surplus of housing at obscenely good prices.
For someone at the stage where house buying is in the near future, it seems like a good thing. That was our reasoning to invest in a condo here. However, when the seller counter-offered with $73,000 (really?), we decided that the investment would be a poor return. A one bedroom, one bathroom apartment doesn't rent for anything above $475 here, and our payments would be around $600 (with taxes and H.O.A. fees). For a seller trying to come out ahead in the current market is absolutely ridiculous.
Besides, we've heard being an absentee landlord kind of stinks.
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John Donne: Holy Sonnet X
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so ;
For those, whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy picture[s] be,
Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou'rt slave to Fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better than thy stroke ; why swell'st thou then ?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And Death shall be no more ; Death, thou shalt die
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so ;
For those, whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy picture[s] be,
Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou'rt slave to Fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better than thy stroke ; why swell'st thou then ?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And Death shall be no more ; Death, thou shalt die
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