I found a draft of a post from fall 2005- just a few months after we moved to Boston. Can't tell if it's me or Ed writing, though I assume it's Ed because it's both concise and witty. I can't help but hear Alanis Morrisette's "Ironic" in my head as I read this...
They should have confessionals for married couples in their thirties who don't own a home. I can only imagine:
Real Estate Priest: "So, how old are you?"
Laura & Ed (shifting uncomfortably on the lone kneeling bench): "31." "32."
Real Estate Priest: "And, how long have you been married?"
Laura: "Nearly nine years."
R.E. Priest: "Children?"
Ed: "One. Jack. He's fourteen months."
R.E. Priest: "Sounds good. You both are keeping in tune with the great American dream of getting married and having children. I assume you both have established, well-paying jobs, being that you both have master's degrees, and that you're diligently saving for your very own home."
Ed: "Um, well, that's why we are here. You see, we're still searching for that perfect job and in order to do that, we've accumulated a fair amount of debt...."
Laura: "Basically, it will be a long time before we can buy a home. We don't tell our friends how long it will be, but we needed to tell someone. That's why we came here."
R.E. Priest: "I see. It's good you've told me. My best recommendation is to push yourselves to near-breaking point so that you can buy that home as soon as possible."
Ed: "That's what we're doing."
R.E. Priest. "Good. Keep it up. Go to your current residence, say four 'hail mortgages,' and have a good night sleep."
Yeah, right. Lately I've been trying to figure out why owning a home is so important. Why it is just expected that buying a house is the logical next step in our lives. Why have I bought into the "dream" of a mortgage?