I'm getting quieter and quieter these days, because I have a birthday coming up in a week. I must, therefore, spend all of my spare energy on cultivating a magnificent sense of despair. The only thing I hate worse than New Year's is my birthday. Actually, now that I've worked out to spend every New Year's in a foreign country in the company of strangers, it's not as awful as it used to be.
Which means birthday is numero uno disappointment every year. Until I forget to plan ahead for New Year's, at least.
Another thing that is taking up a lot of my time is me trying to figure out if I should buy property or not. I lucked out the first time, cluelessly stumbling into a future gold mine in my mid-twenties. I was slightly less clueless the second time but just as lucky. Third time in this case is not necessarily the charm. Where property is going isn't clear. Inventory is massive, but things have started moving. But moving enough? Not yet. Can I time the market? I wish.
I've been looking all over the map. Just to give you an idea, here's a contrast. Check out cheap and tiny versus massive and expensive.
I'll have the latter, please. For my birthday. That would shut me up.