Looking for a new house is a lot like looking for a new boyfriend.
First there was oh so much hunting online; scrolling through thousands of photos, trying to get a feel for what it really was like beyond the wide angle lens that makes everything look bigger and better;
Then there was figuring out what I want in terms of price, age, size, architectural style, flow, updating of the kitchen and bathrooms, walkability and special features room for an ADU and built-in cabinets;
Then I had to determine the deal breakers, like busy streets, rough neighborhoods, no outdoor space, too many stairs or a gazillion needed repairs;
I also had to keep open minded about my criteria so I didn’t miss a diamond in the rough;
I learned I had to love, not just like the house or think it would ‘work’. The ultimate question seemed to be ‘could I imagine my furniture in it and art on its walls’?
So, you get the metaphor.
I saw 167 houses. That number is on top of the 2000–3000 I saw online and passed on.
I did put an offer on one house that I didn’t get: it was at the tail end of the bidding war frenzy in the Bay Area, and I was number 6 out of 10 bidders in terms of price. The house went for 750,000 over asking price.
The house I ended up buying I first saw the day it went on the market. I jumped on it because it was in the exact neighborhood I wanted. I was dismayed to find it had 3 dealbreakers; a shoddy fence, a too funky staircase that went from inside on one floor to outside on the other, and no real closet in the primary bedroom.
But 6 weeks later it was still on the market and I went back. I could solve the dealbreakers with modest funds and the stellar aspects of the house beckoned me. The sellers were still too proud to remove the ugly fence or lower the price but I fell in love with that house.
I went for it and got it. No regrets. Same with the man I am dating. Gotta love the metaphor!
