My name is Monica and I am an addict. Addicted to properties.

The scent of a new house. Fresh paint, sawdust, Windex , mixed with a healthy dose of sweat still lingering on, even though the last worker has left the premises quite some time ago.

Pretty high on my scent list, accompanied by the aroma of freshly baked apple pie, freshly roasted coffee beans, the scent of the earth after summer rain, just to name a few.

The key word is fresh.

Yesss, a new house smells fresh. After all it is brand new. Nothing has been used, oohhh  so new.

Love new stuff.

So, I’ve been thinking. I’ve had my fair share of properties and fortunately I only had to sell one so far . Acquiring a new one is like starting a new relationship.

Not to be confused with building a house yourself, now that is more like having a baby, giving birth to it.

This is how it goes…
You feel restless. Something in the back of your mind , a small voice is telling you, more like whispering that it is time to move on.

You ignore it…after all just a little over a year ago you wowed never to build or buy another property. Promised peaceful, relaxing days to your son. Promised yourself endless afternoons sitting on the terrace writing your novel. Quiet walks in the evening, lots of “me time” in the mornings.

You still vividly remember the anger you felt when you found the caretaker of your neighbour trying to put up the insulation on the wall of your house instead of the guy you hired, the bile that rose up your throat when you found out how much the contractor cheated you.

The long drives between the two houses that you’ve been building simultaneously.
The total exhaustion, the endless negotiations , all the crying, screaming.

So this little voice gets louder and louder. And the day comes when you cannot ignore it anymore.

So you sit down and start scrolling down the ads at your usual real estate website. It won’t hurt , after all you are just checking out the market. It is kind of fun, sipping a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon on a Friday night and discovering what is going on. You are not looking for anything specific, just browsing…Budapest, or Nagykovacsi. Meanwhile you check out the properties at the lake. Quick look at the Palheiro Newsletter, just in case.

You do this on a Friday night, than on Saturday, and it becomes a habit. After son goes to sleep, and you are back from walking the dog, wine gets poured into a glass, flip open the Mac and start the search.

This time the budget is limited.

You narrow down your search to Nagykovacsi. Call up the usual real estate agent, check out a few properties with her. Spend almost 2 months (highly unusual for you) negotiating for a house in dire need of renovation, which falls through at the last minute because of some legal problems. No need for complications.

So back to the two houses still under construction. One is the logical choice, good location, at a good price, but doesn’t do anything for you. The other one is at a more prestigious location, more expensive (obviously), and is very secluded.

And this is where the relationship begins. At first, you are like two strangers, starting to get to know each other. You learn about her ( yes, I think, she is a she ), see the floorplans, get to know her size, the shape,…

You have a really strong desire to truly get to know her.

You start to visit her, at the beginning maybe every week or so…than as it progresses, visits become more frequent. You starting to know her, feel her… trying to find faults. Which obviously you do find, quite a lot actually… you want to find an excuse why you should hate her. After all she is nothing like the other one, the old one. Who could live up to her?

She is much smaller, not so stylish, hiding at the back of the garden . Almost too embarrassed to be seen. She knows that you are used to better, bigger… yet she is still hoping that you will love her nevertheless.

Time goes by. Each and every time you visit her, you must drive by the old love. Hard not to compare the two.

You start to get more involved, choosing the tiles, the wooden floor, the colours of the wall, start to make her yours. She doesn’t protest. She is happy to change for you. She grows on you. It is not an investment anymore.

You have feelings for her. She is almost ready. Almost yours. Lots of delays, but she is finally yours.

Papers done, price fully payed, keys exchanged.

Still something is missing.

Kitchen and wardrobes installed, sofa arrives. Hmmm… Picking out the carpet. People keep asking you if you are excited about moving. Not quite.

 

Today comes. Told my son that I will just drop by the new house before going up to the log cabin.

The first time ever that I am truly alone with her. No chaperones, no-one to bother us. Just the two of us.

And it happens. As I am walking through, opening the windows, wandering in and out of the rooms.  It suddenly hits me.

” You are so gorgeous….”   ( Taylor Swift )

This is the ultimate high for me. The moment I’ve been waiting for for so long. Cheers to us!
Will I settle ? Doubt it. My name is Monica and I am addict. Addicted to properties.