08. Goals, Game and Getting By...
A recent horoscope in the Washington Post read …”Financial balance, for some, is about wanting less and earning more. For you, right now it’s about wanting more and figuring out a way to make enough to afford it. ” So, I am being stalked. The damn horoscope reporters are following me. Look, horoscope reporters. Tell me something I don’t know. It is not news if I already know it. Let me do you a favor. Here is my horoscope for tomorrow:
“You are eating sardines, tonight, because you don’t really know how to buy groceries and you only have $100 until payday, but even that check is appropriated.” Okay? Got it?
Ambition is not all that it is cracked up to be all of the time. When you are obsessive and/or neurotic about your objectives, ambition can be costly. I tend to win. But then, sometimes, I like to “re-win”. Re-winning is a euphemism that I use for being greedy. In other words, I will win, and then re-enter the game for one more win. That is where I typically take a loss.
This year is different, but the same. This year, I am bracing myself for humility. I made so many humbling sacrifices last year... I had one pair of shoes for most of the year. When those wore down, I started recycling shoes that I had in storage at my mother’s house. Shoes that are in storage at mommy’s house are not beat up enough to throw away, but vanity dictates that they really are not appropriate to wear. My uncle was moving to Arizona last year, so he stayed at my mother’s house for a month – in transition. Anyway, he left a pair of shoes in the guest room closest. Guess what? I took ‘em. Yeah. I did. I needed those shoes for work. Now, my uncle is in his fifties. Trust me when I tell you that these were not fly footwear. And they were 10 and a halves. Since my shoe size is eleven, at least, I couldn’t wear them with socks. But do you know what? I wore those shoes to work for three months. And they hurt. And since these were the summer months… you got it… they smelled like somebody plays soccer in his church shoes. And my ex joked me and joked me and joked me. But when she needed money - she routinely spent more than she took in - I had the money to give her. How? Because I was wearing stolen-hand-me-down shoes. She never really saw the relationship between sacrifice and success. Saving money and providing for her (in parallel) got me by last year.
This year is different, but the same. I am not in the same relationship, but I am back to hoarding cash. At least this year I planned ahead and bought a pair of dress shoes before I turned the Amex over. But my short-term motivators are different in 2008. I have taken to something that I am not entirely proud of. I access some sites on my work computer that I don’t want people know about. I have become addicted to downloading… what can only be described as property pornography. It’s not what you think. (Or maybe it is.)
So, usually after lunch, I will hunch down low on my monitor and go to my zillow link. I have some other real estate brokerage sites, but they are so raw, that I won’t get into them, here. Let’s just say I get the listings I want… Anyway, I get to my site, and I am all like, Ooh! New listings! Oooh. Aaah. Look at that price! Is that your price? Ooh. That is a nice price. I can work wit’ that... Then I’ll look around to make sure no one is trying to snoop on my screen. I am not really supposed to be looking at this stuff at work. But that won’t stop me from clicking on another link: Oh. Hell no! Look at those four units. Wait. Is that four units? Oooh, yes it is four units. I want to live in you. Live in you… and rent you out. October cannot come fast enough for me…Then I click on another one. Oh. I gotta get that. I am going to put Central Air in you…and heating. I recently ran across a listing with four two-bedroom units for $100 thousand less than what I have qualified to borrow. I just about passed out.
I am dating a design genius who has this unique and affecting vision. Her place is both edgy and warm. She has excellent taste in everything (including dudes, obviously). Anyway, I sent her one of my downloaded building pics – on my work email. She was all, hmmm. Hesitant. She called me in that reluctant voice that women use on the phone when they are trying to sell the impression that they are being sensitive to your feelings. “OK. Honey? I saw your place. Yeah, so. Are you going to add …” Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. First thing. I am not Donald Trump, nor am I dating Oprah (although I have always thought that Ms. Winfrey is a fine looking woman whose love life could use a little spicing up. If you are reading this Ms. Winfrey, you know, hey, I am just saying). My first building will not be the Bellagio. I am a “big thinker”, but I am also a pragmatist. I mean, bless her little chocolate heart for trying to give it to me straight. I want honest feedback from people whose opinions I respect, but when you tell people that you are buying a building, for some reason, they picture the high rise from the “Jeffersons”. My first place will not have a dumpy white doorman. I will not have a sassy maid. There won’t be elevators. I won’t slam the door on oddball British neighbors.
This is real world real estate. And at my level in the game, the real world needs a little work. The real world has AC units poking out of the window and probably needs paint. And I am comfortable with this effort being a long term project. I decided to buy in 2005. I decided to buy a quad in 2006. I mean, I would love to wrap this thing up and move in, today. But I am building this thing from scratch, and to ensure it is built well, I am committed to building slowly. In the interim, I am just getting by.
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