(no subject)
Yesterday, I inherited ten thousand dollars and I was kind of sad.
That sounds horrible, doesn't it? I sound like a complete asshole, right?
My great-aunt Betty, whom I am named after, left most of her money to my grandmother and to me. I mean, the idea sounds like a fantasy, inheriting a lot of money just after getting married and starting My Life, but when I thought about it, I realized that I couldn't do a whole lot with ten thousand dollars. You see, I have fifteen thousand dollars of student loans in my name, and five thousand dollars left on my car. The most I could do with this gift would be to pay off half of my debt. I wouldn't ever get to do anything with this money. It would zip into my bank account and immediately zip out, lightening my debt by a small amount before I headed off to graduate school to accumulate even more debt.
So I was a little annoyed, that I got this generous amount of money but couldn't do anything worthwhile with it. I mean, I suppose paying off debt is worthwhile, it's just not very exciting. But today I called my father. I had thought he'd want me to use this money to pay off my car payment especially, since he's currently helping me out with payments. But no. My little sister had inherited Aunt Betty's car. So instead of buying her a new car like he's been planning, my dad offered to pay off the rest of my car payment, because he wanted me to put the money in a savings account. As a down payment on a house. Never mind all the interest building up on my student loans, he wants me to be able to use this money for a house.
All my life, I've dreamed of having my own house. My mother never let me rearrange my furniture or pin posters to the wall or even change my curtains and bedspread. I've built up house after house in my daydreams, like Valancy from The Blue Castle: houses with lots of windows and sunlight and ivy climbing up the walls, houses with torrents and domes and front porches and backyard gardens. I would paint my closets pink and every door a different color and hang cafe curtains in the windows. I would hang glass bottles on a tree and plant water lilies in a claw-foot tub and hide garden gnomes everywhere. I would tear down cabinet doors in the kitchens, paint the shelves yellow and have all my Fiestaware on display. I would replace every single door knob with brass and crystal ones from antique stores. I would paint all the floors blue so that it would look like an ocean. A house with a huge pantry and a laundry room big enough to hold my ironing board and the litter box. I could plant a field of sunflowers in the front yard and stick a trampoline in the backyard. (The house of my dreams does not include homeowner's associations.)
I knew, with the career I picked and the career Richard picked, that we would never make any money. We would never be able to retire, and it would take years and years of saving and scrimping before we'd ever be able to buy a home. But suddenly, with this wonderful gift, it's like a dream come true. After Richard finishes his degree, after I finish mine, after our lease in Athens is up -- if we both got jobs, we could buy a house. We could buy a house maybe next fall. Isn't that amazing? In my wildest dreams I've imagined something like this happening, but I never suspected that my dreams might come true. If we had a house, we could get a dog. If we had a house, we could even have a kid.
This year has been so strange for me. Both wonderful things and terrible things have happened to me. I got married, my horse and my cat died, my graduation is delayed a semester again and I inherited ten thousand dollars. I said once that I didn't want life to be easy. Maybe someone's been paying attention to all my daydreams.
That sounds horrible, doesn't it? I sound like a complete asshole, right?
My great-aunt Betty, whom I am named after, left most of her money to my grandmother and to me. I mean, the idea sounds like a fantasy, inheriting a lot of money just after getting married and starting My Life, but when I thought about it, I realized that I couldn't do a whole lot with ten thousand dollars. You see, I have fifteen thousand dollars of student loans in my name, and five thousand dollars left on my car. The most I could do with this gift would be to pay off half of my debt. I wouldn't ever get to do anything with this money. It would zip into my bank account and immediately zip out, lightening my debt by a small amount before I headed off to graduate school to accumulate even more debt.
So I was a little annoyed, that I got this generous amount of money but couldn't do anything worthwhile with it. I mean, I suppose paying off debt is worthwhile, it's just not very exciting. But today I called my father. I had thought he'd want me to use this money to pay off my car payment especially, since he's currently helping me out with payments. But no. My little sister had inherited Aunt Betty's car. So instead of buying her a new car like he's been planning, my dad offered to pay off the rest of my car payment, because he wanted me to put the money in a savings account. As a down payment on a house. Never mind all the interest building up on my student loans, he wants me to be able to use this money for a house.
All my life, I've dreamed of having my own house. My mother never let me rearrange my furniture or pin posters to the wall or even change my curtains and bedspread. I've built up house after house in my daydreams, like Valancy from The Blue Castle: houses with lots of windows and sunlight and ivy climbing up the walls, houses with torrents and domes and front porches and backyard gardens. I would paint my closets pink and every door a different color and hang cafe curtains in the windows. I would hang glass bottles on a tree and plant water lilies in a claw-foot tub and hide garden gnomes everywhere. I would tear down cabinet doors in the kitchens, paint the shelves yellow and have all my Fiestaware on display. I would replace every single door knob with brass and crystal ones from antique stores. I would paint all the floors blue so that it would look like an ocean. A house with a huge pantry and a laundry room big enough to hold my ironing board and the litter box. I could plant a field of sunflowers in the front yard and stick a trampoline in the backyard. (The house of my dreams does not include homeowner's associations.)
I knew, with the career I picked and the career Richard picked, that we would never make any money. We would never be able to retire, and it would take years and years of saving and scrimping before we'd ever be able to buy a home. But suddenly, with this wonderful gift, it's like a dream come true. After Richard finishes his degree, after I finish mine, after our lease in Athens is up -- if we both got jobs, we could buy a house. We could buy a house maybe next fall. Isn't that amazing? In my wildest dreams I've imagined something like this happening, but I never suspected that my dreams might come true. If we had a house, we could get a dog. If we had a house, we could even have a kid.
This year has been so strange for me. Both wonderful things and terrible things have happened to me. I got married, my horse and my cat died, my graduation is delayed a semester again and I inherited ten thousand dollars. I said once that I didn't want life to be easy. Maybe someone's been paying attention to all my daydreams.