building blocks

when the first of my friends bought their own home in their early 20s, i was excited for them but i just didn’t get it. why would anyone want to buy a house and lock themselves down? life is to be lived! travel beckoned. adventures were to be had. my saturday mornings were to be spent nursing  hangovers not mowing a lawn.


ten(ish) years later, i do get it. a house is a physical representation of a life you’re building with someone. it’s a financial investment in your future. and frankly, it beats paying i-dare-not-even-contemplate-exactly-how-much-i’ve-shelled-out-in-my-lifetime rent.


so piero and i are on the market for a flat. we’re both quite aligned with what we want: central, good view and no lawn to mow. neither of us want art deco (or as it should be known: crap architecture that sydneysiders tell themselves that they love because it’s slightly less offensive than some of the other monstrosities sprinkled throughout this city). and as we associate the word ‘screwdriver’  with vodka and o-j; we defo need something easy to maintain. 


like so many who have walked this journey before us, our saturday morning are now filled with viewings. fortunately, we’re looking over a small geographical area so it’s easy to walk from property to property. 


last weekend, we found one that we really liked. it’s not perfect, but it ticks a lot of our boxes. perhaps soon, i too will be entering the world of grown-ups.