What a week. I open the paper and expect to read: world ended.
I put my apartment on the market and went to North Myrtle the week Bear Stearns imploded. I came home to Lehman. I have been losing money all year but never grasped that the two were correlated, or that my losses were anything more than temporary. Such was the size of my investor’s ego. Why was I sure that Manhattan apartments were going to come down without truly bad things happening?
I feel guilty to be so psyched and happy when in reality I should be crazed and staying up all night. Yes I am coming into more than pocket money less than life changing money this week. Every cent was earned and is very needed now.
I was just beginning to understand the economy was truly becoming bad, and was planning on taking it off the market and getting some kind of social worker/legal/research job as I’m licensed, have certification and much experience in all three and sometimes together when I got this bid that was too good to let go. I knew the people/person would pass the board, no trouble and these days it’s important to be as obsessive as I was and let the realtors know exactly what I wanted in bidders. Obsessive might not be the right word. “Single minded” comes to mind. So few could pass a board easily now.
Wow. All that’s finished. I’m mostly packed. The moving van comes Tuesday. I’m leaving the apartment a day early so the buyers can do a walk through in an empty apartment—I’m a bit confident in my product.
Wow. I have three days to play tourist.
I have no idea how I will feel when I no longer own this apartment. I will be staying at my friends’ townhouse and I do so love it but it’s not mine.
It feels so strange to be in a position to buy a house in this time of uncertainty and loss. I refuse to apologize as I will have to do massive economizing and feel like Eva Gabor in Green Acres without the money or the farm. OK I don’t feel like her.
I feel truly great and feel just a tinge of guilt over that