I always like to try new things. On one hand, it keeps life intriguing, and it has expanded my list of friends and experiences that I treasure.

On the other hand, it can really stress me out.

Ask any of my close friends and they will tell you I live in a fairly constant state of mostly self-induced overwhelm. I’m always juggling a full-time job and my Navy reserve career. At various times, I’m also working on writing projects. At one point, I was doing freelance book coaching and editing, at another I was starting a podcast. I clearly hate free time and sanity.

Rarely do I feel external pressure to go after goals. It’s most often me putting the pressure on myself. I’ve likened myself to a pointer dog. When I lock eyes on a new goal, I’ll focus so intently that when everyone else goes home for the day and lives a normal life, I’ll still be metaphorically standing rigid in the woods, one paw up, face pointed maniacally at the new thing I’ve decided I need to experience. It’s not because society made me feel like I had to. It’s not to keep up with the Joneses. It’s simply because something caught my interest and now I. Need. That. Thing.

My most recent eye-catcher was real estate investing.

My dad was an investor as far back as I can remember so I guess it’s in my blood. He helped me get a rental property back in my 20’s because I was living in apartments in D.C., not building equity in anything, and getting straight up hosed on my taxes.

I could not be more grateful that he recommended buying a rental. If you’ve ever read Rich Dad, Poor Dad, it makes so much sense to invest in real estate and the sooner the better. But I only half understood the value back then and it was more of a set-it-and-forget-it type investment for me where I bought a property…then continued along life as usual. My dad managed it for me, the renters thankfully covered the mortgage, and I rarely thought of it.

Fast forward to a year ago, when I was scrolling through Instagram and came across an ad for the Women’s Real Estate Investors Network. Something clicked and I took the bait for the week-long course being offered. Once I finished that, I went full-bore and paid to join the network as a full-fledged member.

Long story short, I learned all kinds of strategies in investing and raising capital and it bolstered my belief that I could invest more actively and more aggressively and maybe even do a flip or two.

And that’s when I bought a fixer upper.

(if this was a movie, the camera would zoom in on my face, mid-flashback, and you’d hear ominous Duh Duh DUUUUH music in the background.)

I blame HGTV.

I became enamored by all those success stories from Chip and Joanna, Karen and Mina, and Tarek and Christina (…then Christina and Ant, Christina and Josh, Tarek and Heather …. HGTV may have convinced me to invest in real estate, but it sure didn’t do much for my fear of marrying the wrong person…)

The HGTV shows made investing look fun and fairly easy. They made me feel like I, too, understood how to find good contractors and price out a deal; that I, too, knew the precise point in a house to inject shiplap as a design feature.

So, armed with my Home & Garden Television master’s degree and my new Girl Power real estate network, I set out to find a deal.

It wasn’t long before I was told by a friend in property management of an upcoming bank auction for a stately house that had been foreclosed upon.

I called a contractor I knew and had him and my property manager friend look at the house with me. We all fell in love immediately.

The house was charming. Two story brick built in 1930 with Romanesque columns and arches at the entrances. It needed a lot of work, but I could easily see how to make it a duplex and rent the top and bottom floors separately. Even if I had to put six figures into the renovation budget, the asking price still felt like a great deal. I submitted an offer.

Then I was quickly informed we were in a bidding war, and I needed to come with my best and final.

I wasn’t sure how high to go. What if the others only bid like five bucks above me? I’d waste money if I shot far above my original offer. But what if the others shot far above me and I lost the deal altogether and regretted it forever?

I asked a fellow investor what she would do. Then I promptly submitted a bid five thousand more than she advised because I’m an over achiever and my pointer-dogness had already engaged beyond my ability to harness it and I needed to win that house.

And I did win that house.

Sort of.

1. My bid was the highest. I’ll never know if it was the highest by five thousand dollars, or thirty thousand dollars and that not-knowing is something that builds character and shouldn’t at all keep me up at night for years to come, right therapists?

2. Once I submitted my initial deposit of $5000, I learned there was a lien on the property and we couldn’t close. That was September 2022.

The house did not close until February 2023.

And that’s just the very beginning of the drama! More to come in my next post.