Thief

Aviva and I live in the crappiest, smallest house of anyone we know, and we absolutely love it.

The bedrooms are small, there’s almost no closet space (Aviva’s closet is in the basement), there’s no garage, hardly a yard, a tiny kitchen, dated bathrooms, nasty carpet – and we both work from home.

On the flip side, the house is well-insulated, has a ton of natural light, amazing water pressure, and its really all we need.

Our goal is to stay put in this house for 5-8 years, ideally with a couple kids.

We bought this house in December 2023 super cheap (there was no kitchen and we took a couple months to rehab it before moving in February 2024).

This is almost the opposite path many of our friends took: buying huge, gorgeous, forever-homes.

When we go to their houses, we‘re often jealous of their en-suite bathrooms, beautiful kitchens and molding, closet space, and garage!

But then again, comparison is the thief of joy – Ross Stringer.

We love our house, but still get jealous and browse Zillow looking for what they have.

Why are we not fully content? Could we be? Should we be? Why do we do often compare ourselves to others: finance, relationships, travel, families, skills.

We know and love these people, but are sometimes jealous of their lives instead of being grateful and content with our own. I wonder if its possible not to do this, especially in our materialistic society.

After all, in the end the race is long, and it’s only with yourself – Baz Luhrmann – Mary Schmich.

Talk soon, Mitch