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Let them eat brunch


I have come to the conclusion I will rent forever, but bring me poached eggs, not pity – I’m good.

Do you know which expression turns me into ‘old man shaking fist at cloud’ most rapidly?

“Just buy an investment property, get your foot in the door”

Maybe I don’t want to jam my impoverished foot into “the door” for the sake of overextending myself financially to secure a depressing apartment for the imaginary tenants who will miraculously want to live in aforementioned dump. And for the love of all things holy I certainly don’t want to live in it myself.

Another pearler: “rent money is dead money”. Sigh. Do you know what else is “dead money”- the hundreds of thousands of dollars you pay on accrued interest over the course of a home loan. 

Then, if you default on your mortgage you’ve lost it. May as well flush it down the toilet, as I will do with the delightful breakfasts I have digested and enjoyed being an “irresponsible renter”.

Also: you are lecturing me on fiscal sense when you bought that tiny outer suburbs dive for $900,000 at the peak of the market, at a hyper-inflated price. Spoiler alert: prices can and do and will correct themselves eventually in any major market where median wages aren’t rising proportionately with real estate.

Another fun fact: rising casualisation of the global workforce means that the income upon which your hefty home loan was calculated… well, it might not be there for the 50 years you’ll spend making installments. 

Do you know what else is great? Not having a mortgage. Highly recommend, much brunch, few forms. Don’t know what negative gearing means? Well, you don’t have to if you never own a house. 

So forgive me for snorting into my espresso as you chastise me for not magically having more money and an endless pool of baseless optimism in the market and workforce. 

And DON’T get me started on those of you with charming, four-walled nest eggs who were able to live at home sans rent to save for them. Just don’t.

Do you know what is great? Brunch. I happily admit I could have built thousands of artisanal toast houses and sold them to foreign buyers, glued together with avocado. I have had my share of fancy breakfasts, and I don’t want my money back.

And so I will continue to nibble at my overpriced avocado toast (smashed, goats cheese, wooden plate the works). 

Wake up and smell the coffee – (it smells great by the way) – rent money is sense money.


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