"I'll tell you one thing. Bedding down with real estate sure as shit ain't happening."
I opened my journal to a random page and read the above quote. Oh how it made me laugh. It's so like me. I love the expression "sure as shit." So crass. Not for public use. I'm usually so girly girly and polite. Beside the aforementioned quote was some rough money calculations. One number for what I have in the bank. Another number for how much I would need to have a down payment for a place in Santa Monica.
The numbers didn't match up. By a long shot.
So, the dream of buying real estate in this buyers market is dashed. Was it really a dream though? It seems so permanent. So much like settling down. So unlike me.
Sometimes it takes our morning pages to show us who we really are. I'm just not that girl who is going to throw her savings into a real estate venture when she could, instead, convert her savings into flights and hotels.
Clearly, God is keeping me untethered in this Santa Monica life. I really could take off and start a new life anywhere else. There is my day job, of course, that keeps me occupied and keeps the money rolling in. But when I look at those numbers, I feel like I'll have to work until I'm a 103 just to have enough to buy a tiny condo in "Santa Monica adjacent."
So what's stopping me from taking off and leaving it all behind?
Fear. Fear that I'll run out of money. Fear that I'll have to move back in with my mom in backwoods Canada. Then again, if my worst case scenario is living with my mom, she's a cool lady. I like her. We laugh a lot. And she has a pretty good life. So, if the worst case scenario is that I'll have a life like my mother's life, that's not so bad. She's doing it. She likes it.
But, is it me?
Ah, that is the question.
I think I have to write more in my morning pages to figure out who me really is.
My sunglasses, Twin Ring journal and Uni-ball vision pen.