It was supposed to simplify our lives.
That is what I told the lender. I knew there were a lot of moving pieces, but if somebody read through all of them, I promised, it made sense.
Amanda and I were buying a place in Rockaway. The idea was to spend more time at the beach when we were not traveling for work. I was at Wahoo, traveling plenty, and biking and running enough that I was already reaching out to find people to ride and run with near the new place.
The Rockaway purchase was still in closing when I received a cash offer on the house in Cornwall. I thought I would take it, with a target close sometime in August. That meant connecting the bank, the lawyer, the buyer's agent, and the seller's agent while the other purchase was still moving through its own list.
Then I opened another spreadsheet.
I was also running scenarios on a Hudson Valley apartment as an investment that could become a place for us later. I liked it, but the outdoor space was just a little too small. If the cantilevered balcony could have been expanded by even ten square feet, I thought it would be a no-brainer. It also looked impossible or at least super complex.
There were two land plots in Highland that I wanted to see first too.
This was my version of simplification: one place coming in, one going out, another on a spreadsheet, two pieces of land to visit, and the Williamsburg loft still looking over the bridge.
I took a photo of that view on July 4. The bridge was dark against the orange sky. A new tower was still under construction beside it. The city looked very settled from up there.
My inbox did not.
The only thing the Hudson Valley place lacked was a little more outdoor space. Even another ten square feet would do it. I was still tossing that around in my mind.