Being a homeowner is getting better over time. I bought in April 2002, and I did it more for the investment than for the responsibility. Six years of renting and strategically saving and investing proved to be enough motivation to take the leap. I was at a stage in my life when, monetarily, it was very doable, even in the city of Chicago, and, psychologically, it felt right. The cash was there for the down payment and start-up costs, and the mortgage payments were affordable and even more so now that I refinanced three times in eighteen months. I wasn't reticent to own based on what it would cost in the short-term and long, but I was more concerned about how it would affect my lifestyle.
My job requires me to be on the road a lot, four to five days a week, every week; therefore, I was worried about my free time on the weekend being consumed by "condo" tasks, whatever those may have been pinging around in my imagination. Those who know my wife and me realize that neither of us is a homemaker, and astute prediction proved true if one thought that we STILL wouldn't have a bedroom after the first year (STILL don't at almost two years and counting...). If you stopped by our place, which still resembles the hodge-podge decor of a college dorm room, you'd think, "You weren't worried THAT much, man. There are still unpacked boxes resting against the downstairs wall!" All true, still very true.
Slowly, but surely, however, I learned to enjoy ownership. I enjoy the feeling of "our" place. I enjoy thinking about what we'll do next, or I suppose, in our case, what we MIGHT do SOME day. I even enjoy doing the little repairs and projects, much to my surprise (shock to many, surprise to me). Exciting moves for me were buying tools, learning how to use them, and, more importantly, not hurting myself or damaging the property in the process (in other words, trial and error and more error). But, still, I'm concerned about how much time--whether it's thinking or (gasp!) doing--the condo eats up during what little "me" time I have upon returning from my out of town assignments.
The condo, indeed, eats time. This weekend, for example, we finished some projects: set up a wine cabinet in an under-utilized pantry, installed an overhead light for the kitchen sink, and performed general disposal and clean-up leftover from the holidays. All of these activities, as predicted, precluded me from doing what I really want to do in my spare time, which is, basically, anything, but chores. My hobbies have become even more important over the last two years because a constant out of town schedule (most recently, California for the last sixteen months) does not allow me to indulge as I have in the past. Reading, in particular, is immensely important to me, and, without a doubt, it has taken a back seat to work and the condo.
Those who know me well confirm that books are as vital as air and water. I'm rarely out the door without a book in tow, and I try to take every idle moment as an opportunity to read. As a frequent traveller and a city-dweller, most of these opportunities arise in cabs, in airports, on planes, or on trains. I try not to juggle too many at once, but I've concluded that my on-off, stop-go, zig-zag lifestyle has eroded my attention span and requires me to maintain choices of literary escape. I can't pound threw a book a week like the days of yore, but, now, I must chisle away, bit by bit, at different pieces, choosing the one that could elicit the most pleasure or distraction at a given moment. Moreover, as a de facto rule, I must always have a choice between fiction and non-fiction because, I suppose, that different hemispheres of the brain are awake/napping at different intervals of my "turn it on-turn it off" lifestyle.
Currently, I am switching, as prescribed, between two novels and two works of non-fiction. I'm reading:
The Man with the Golden Arm by Nelson Algren
The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay by Michael Chabon
and
Lies My Teacher Told Me: Everything Your American History Textbook Got Wrong by James W. Loewen
Only The Ball Was White: A History of Legendary Black Players and All-Black Professional Teams by Robert Peterson
These titles are par for the course when one thinks about my interests over the last few years: Negro League baseball (and baseball, in general), crime fiction, comic books, and critical political history. Over time, I'll blog on about these books and offer up my relevant and/or tangential opinions and observations.
My job requires me to be on the road a lot, four to five days a week, every week; therefore, I was worried about my free time on the weekend being consumed by "condo" tasks, whatever those may have been pinging around in my imagination. Those who know my wife and me realize that neither of us is a homemaker, and astute prediction proved true if one thought that we STILL wouldn't have a bedroom after the first year (STILL don't at almost two years and counting...). If you stopped by our place, which still resembles the hodge-podge decor of a college dorm room, you'd think, "You weren't worried THAT much, man. There are still unpacked boxes resting against the downstairs wall!" All true, still very true.
Slowly, but surely, however, I learned to enjoy ownership. I enjoy the feeling of "our" place. I enjoy thinking about what we'll do next, or I suppose, in our case, what we MIGHT do SOME day. I even enjoy doing the little repairs and projects, much to my surprise (shock to many, surprise to me). Exciting moves for me were buying tools, learning how to use them, and, more importantly, not hurting myself or damaging the property in the process (in other words, trial and error and more error). But, still, I'm concerned about how much time--whether it's thinking or (gasp!) doing--the condo eats up during what little "me" time I have upon returning from my out of town assignments.
The condo, indeed, eats time. This weekend, for example, we finished some projects: set up a wine cabinet in an under-utilized pantry, installed an overhead light for the kitchen sink, and performed general disposal and clean-up leftover from the holidays. All of these activities, as predicted, precluded me from doing what I really want to do in my spare time, which is, basically, anything, but chores. My hobbies have become even more important over the last two years because a constant out of town schedule (most recently, California for the last sixteen months) does not allow me to indulge as I have in the past. Reading, in particular, is immensely important to me, and, without a doubt, it has taken a back seat to work and the condo.
Those who know me well confirm that books are as vital as air and water. I'm rarely out the door without a book in tow, and I try to take every idle moment as an opportunity to read. As a frequent traveller and a city-dweller, most of these opportunities arise in cabs, in airports, on planes, or on trains. I try not to juggle too many at once, but I've concluded that my on-off, stop-go, zig-zag lifestyle has eroded my attention span and requires me to maintain choices of literary escape. I can't pound threw a book a week like the days of yore, but, now, I must chisle away, bit by bit, at different pieces, choosing the one that could elicit the most pleasure or distraction at a given moment. Moreover, as a de facto rule, I must always have a choice between fiction and non-fiction because, I suppose, that different hemispheres of the brain are awake/napping at different intervals of my "turn it on-turn it off" lifestyle.
Currently, I am switching, as prescribed, between two novels and two works of non-fiction. I'm reading:
The Man with the Golden Arm by Nelson Algren
The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay by Michael Chabon
and
Lies My Teacher Told Me: Everything Your American History Textbook Got Wrong by James W. Loewen
Only The Ball Was White: A History of Legendary Black Players and All-Black Professional Teams by Robert Peterson
These titles are par for the course when one thinks about my interests over the last few years: Negro League baseball (and baseball, in general), crime fiction, comic books, and critical political history. Over time, I'll blog on about these books and offer up my relevant and/or tangential opinions and observations.
posted by Brian at 10:32 PM
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