Well. That was a big ol’ househunting FAIL.
We looked at two properties yesterday. The first was clearly advertised as a duplex… and I don’t know about you, but “duplex” to me suggests that it is one half of a house that is split in two and occupied by two sets of tenants. “Duplex” suggests things like a yard.
The place we looked at? Well, we arrived at the property. Two levels – just like the photo. Two mail boxes – 96A and 96B. Cool – it’s a duplex, right? Wrong. The agent arrived and told us that the ground level was actually one unit, and the top level was another! But there were clearly only two mailboxes… and yet somehow this “duplex” was one double-storey house, and two units! WTF? The “duplex” that we were there to visit was actually the top level unit (apartment), which infuriated me no end as the ad clearly stated that pets were allowed… and I’m not sure where they expected us to house our pet, given that it has no garden (nor even a balcony!). The only “yard” was open to the street, and was actually the driveway upon which someone else’s car was parked.
False advertising? I think so. No wonder it had been on the market for so long. Oh, and did I mention the fact that it was $350 per week? I’m happy to pay that amount for a house, and at a pinch I would even pay if for a duplex or townhouse, but I’m not paying it for a 2 bedroom apartment with no balcony and a shared mail box. Grrr.
The second property we looked at was just too small. We knew it would be, but it was seriously tiny, and the backyard was a jungle. The fencing the entire way around the yard was terribly broken, and the sleepout was dark and dingy.
So instead of heading back to the drawing board, we’re just thinking of throwing the drawing board away. That’s right: as of this weekend, The Great Clean Up and Re-arrange begins. We aren’t being kicked out of our current house any time soon; we’re not even on a lease. So we’re going to do something that I’ve been thinking about doing for ages: we’re going to make this house pretty, and we’re going to grin and bear the heat for a bit longer. Realistically, we’ve only got four months of the year that the house is even warm, with maybe six weeks of unbearable heat wherein we can’t sleep and can’t cook and can’t move because it’s too damn hot. That leaves 46 weeks of each year wherein the house is actually not so bad (until the mice come in winter, that is!).
And then we’re going to pull on our tightest pair of saving-pants, and we’re going to save our arses off, and then we’re going to buy a house in 2011. It will be painful, but worth it to not have to play the rental game anymore.
