The real estate lady was lovely, helpful and incredibly professional. The auctioneer was a super suave sales virtuoso. Fifty people stood in a circle as the sun shone down on the home of our dreams.
Boy oh boy it felt good when we outbid the others and won our new place. Everyone clapped. We were champions of the world. Oh how we smiled and laughed as strangers congratulated us. Two hours later, midway through my fifth $14.50 celebratory drink, the guilt set in.
As I write this it's 3.41am and I'm sitting up in bed with horrible thoughts rotating through my head, "What have I done?", "Oh the crippling debt" and "What of the national deficit".
Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!
Tried to take my mind off my brutal buyer's remorse by watching the great Dumb and Dumber, followed by the even-more-brilliant Dumb and Dumber To. But even those two hilarious romps couldn't help me.
Winning an auction isn't really winning. Your victory is simply the opportunity to pay for something.
Imagine a property market where every house had a price on the front? If the sticker reads $999,999,999.95 and you have the money, you buy it. If not, you don't. Simple.
Down the dairy a price is a price. Milk: $3. Bread: $4.90. Two 1.5-litre bottles of delicious, sticky green Mountain Dew: $5. When it comes to property, a price isn't a price, it's some terrifying amount you compete to earn the right to spend. Then you get to pay for it for the rest of your life.
Best of all, once you "win a house" you can spend lots more money improving the place. The better it looks, the easier it is to justify what you paid for it. The trick is to keep spending and spending.
Just then I took a 20-minute break from writing this column to research the lawn I'm going to grow.
Can't wait to sow the thickest, greenest grass in Auckland. Apparently, diversification is key to a truly great all-year lawn. So I think we'll go a fescue rye kikuyu weed thistle mix.
Then purchase the coolest mower available. The Masport 4-Stroke Mower, 190cc, 460mm at just $989 looks bloody good. My new iPhone (which I haven't forgiven myself for buying yet) just told me that.
Actually ... oooh ... maybe a ride-on McCulloch Hydro 22HP 42" would be better. Do the whole lawn in 15 seconds.
We absolutely must get new stone fences with cool automatic key-code gates. Now we "own" this home I deserve a remotely opening entry point. We will need to extend the back deck. I demand nice new outdoor furniture. The front bedroom will require an en suite. The world will end if we don't get built-in wardrobes in every room. Nicer couches, curved TV, matching silver fridge, dishwasher, microwave and bidet.
Every spare second and cent needs to go straight to Mitre 10, Bunny's mega house and the Briscoes lady.
Now we owe so much on the place, everything must be psychopathically perfect - no matter the cost. When it is I'll be so happy. But most important of all, I'll need to purchase a nice new self-flagellation whip and some sleeping pills.
It's good to be on the property ladder.
