Saturday had too many open houses.
I was trying to fit them into a route.
DUMBO first. Greenpoint next. Williamsburg somewhere in the middle. One listing had to go last because the times overlapped.
A week earlier I had been serious enough about a DUMBO co-op to start preparing the financial paperwork for an offer. I asked the bank what else I needed and what came next.
Then the search kept moving.
Buying in Brooklyn meant comparing neighborhoods, buildings, layouts, monthly costs, and all the strange rules attached to co-ops and condos. A listing could look good online and feel wrong inside thirty seconds after the door opened.
The reverse happened too. A place that looked ordinary in photos could make immediate sense once we stood in the room.
I sent Amanda the Saturday options and asked what she thought.
We already had a loft in Williamsburg that felt like home. Buying was a different decision. It tied more money, more paperwork, and more of the future to one address.
I was still learning the process while trying to move quickly enough not to lose the good places. Get pre-approved. Move documents. See the unit. Read the building information. Decide whether the excitement survived the numbers.
The addresses that did not work are not important now. The search is.
By the end of the month, it had stopped being casual browsing. I was preparing offers and arranging weekends around apartment doors.
One of those doors would eventually be the right one.
First, we had to get through Saturday.