You know that townhouse? That townhouse that was going to make me a millionaire? That wonderful townhouse that I bought and so lovingly cleaned and decorated and uh, repaired when the flood gates opened? That townhouse that rented so easily and people were stumbling over each other to be the one we chose to rent it?
Yeah, that one.
Back in October we selected a small family that would be there forever. And ever. Amen. They promised to love, honor and cherish it and not move out until death did they part.
And I grew dollar signs for eyes. I could just taste my first million. And it tasted good. Verrry good.
I continued shopping for more real estate because, heck, when the millions rolled in I wanted to reinvest. I wanted more. MORE! MORE!!!!! And next time, I would own property in Hawaii. Heck, I would buy Honolulu. And then ALL OF HAWAII!
I was unstoppable. Until today.
The phone rang.
My renters are moving out.
* crickets *
Wha???
How can this be? I haven't made a million dollars yet.
Hawaii doesn't know what it's missing.
Sigh.
Townhouse for rent. Cheap.
.
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