One of the big life events that happened while on hiatus from writing here, is I am no longer a renter. I owned my own home after the divorce, some 20 years ago. Through a loss of my job, the recession, the housing bubble, under employment, and strain of being a single mom to four teenagers, I had to sell with no equity and by the skin of my teeth.
The skin of my teeth was probably my fault for hanging on to the house as long as I did. I wanted to stay in the house my youngest grew up in until he graduated from high school.
When you need a job after losing one, you have to take a job no matter the salary. This is the awful truth of unemployment.
But enough of that.
In these past nine years while renting, I had whittled my “things” down to what can fit in a two bedroom apartment. This felt great. I’m enjoying having a yard again, garage, and being able to paint, etc. But the one thing that I don’t enjoy, is more “stuff.”