I keep thinking about owning a home. My own place. With acres of land stretching out in every direction around me. It's think it's because I spend all my time at a bank, with so many people coming in and out and I get to see their life splayed out in numbers on a screen. Some paying $9000 on a credit card. Someone paying $50 on a construction loan. Someone 3 months behind on their $1000 car loan.
It's all just numbers, but the whole person unfolds in front of me. And when someone wants to buy a house, I start to dream. I put in the request, their name disappears into some ones and zeros in a system, to be looked at by some women who have spent years looking at houses for other people.
Rates are up. Well, you probably already knew that, right? But rates are up. And houses here are basically unobtainable unless you have millions. People with millions pay millions for houses worth pennies. People are forced out of the place they have spent their entire lives.
And I spend my days dreaming of the day the real estate bubble pops. The day people with millions do not get everything that people without have worked everyday for. The day I will have a home with acres of land stretching out in every direction.
I'm overly idealistic. I know it, but I can't stop from hoping.
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