Tuesday was the 14th anniversary of moving into the condominium. Condo life has been the perfect fit for a guy who loved living in the college dorms. There's something about a cozy neighborhood of friends that's just always suited me.
A co-worker of mine during my college internship predicted that I'd live in a condo some day, but I didn't give it much thought. When the realtor told me I'd only live in a condo for five years, the competitive current in me did take that almost as a personal challenge. Ironically I didn't like the place enough to buy it during the condo whirlwhind tour that she took me on. When she ran out of places, I switched realtors (figuring, naively and incorrectly, that each realtor had a different collection of homes to show) and the next one I got showed me the same place, somehow it looked better then. Shortly after I bought it, Realtor #1 called me in a fury for having wasted her time. I wonder if I should call her now?
What I'd never have predicted is that I, the laziest homeowner of all time, would be in my sixth straight year on the condominium board, whose monthly meeting was also held that night. It's funny to look around and see that I'm simultaneously the youngest, yet most tenured, resident on the board. And funnier still that they look to me repeatedly for guidance. Strangest of all, I have answers! It just goes to show how easily experience can be mistaken for intelligence.
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