Home Owner? Step it Up, Scrub

Kinda thought I’d get a bit more respect from my friendship group now that I own a home. But as it turns out, I’ve just taken a step on the ladder. The ladder that is life. The life ladder.

So I’ve been financially responsible, never gone on holiday, never asked for handouts, and finally! I was marching into that conveyancers near Richmond, which is also where my new home is, by the way. Yes, Richmond…where all the nice homes are. Well, I mean…it’s next to Kew, and all the nice houses are there, so it’s pretty close. Could probably walk into the city as well.

Not like most of the people in my friendship group, who were mostly boosted by their parents, and their parents’ money, and their parents’ conveyancers. They all own their own homes now and they like to think it was via hard work, but when your Mummy and Daddy go so far as to actually, honestly hook you up with a conveyancer, and a bunch of other property professionals…then yep, that’s totally all you! No help at all, you self-made hard workers, you.

But even now, I’m a second-class citizen because I don’t have kids. Kids are the next big ‘thing’ you need in life, to the point where once you have kids, you ascend to a level above. You can be counted as a productive member of society, with your mortgage and a brood of small clones of yourself. If you dare to not have kids, you’re a lazy single hoon who doesn’t care about the future of the planet, and how very dare you continue to waste valuable oxygen. I’m not even MARRIED. That’s not even level one! That’s a sub-level!

Well, stuff them. I’m living life at my own pace, and I found my conveyancing lawyers all by myself. I looked for a home, I’m paying off my mortgage, and my career is…fine. It’s fine. At least they give me time off, so I can go on holiday and actually live life a little.