It seems house owning is out -- and so might be renting.
Although I found a dear friend willing to co-sign a loan, a beautiful human being throughout, the cost of the house has increased by more than $50,000 in the 18 months since the last sale.
That put the house well out of any range for me.
I looked around the potential houses for sale but in this time, in the Hayward market, it's either decrepit or palatial. When a home description starts with, "Must be comfortable with the smell of leftover meth," that's more than a fixer upper.
But there's nothing to rent here in God's country.
The singular thing I've made a call on right now is a 700-square-foot upper and I've not had a call back.
In the two counties where I work, there are only three apartments I've found and two of them are for elderly. Per the rules, I'm old but not elderly.
The question becomes how far away from my job can I comfortably live.
I don't care to be a case story for the woes of housing. I've already been through this.
All the uncertainty, it's exhausting.
Peace and certainty unto all of you my brothers and sisters.