I toured a couple condos yesterday morning. One of them still had a family living in it, so all their stuff was still there. While going through the unit, I kept thinking of all these things that had NOTHING to do with properly evaluating the place. I’d think these thoughts, then immediately feel like an idiot.

I sat on their couch. “Hmmm. Good couch.” (The couch would not come with the condo.)

“They have really nice stuff. Am I expected to get stuff this nice? Their alarm clock tells you the weather. Maybe I’m poor. Maybe I shouldn’t be looking at condos at all.”

“Wait, that kitchen soap’s from Target. I can afford that.”

In their baby’s room: “They named their baby Chase? I don’t like that name. I don’t think I want to live here.”

“They’ve got foam pads on all the corners of their countertops and tables because of their baby. I wonder if these corners are really sharp.”

“Wait, no one would sell a table with sharpened corners, right? Never mind.”

“I should really stop thinking about corners.”

“The creaky ladder up to this neat loft area has wheels on it. Why would it ever need wheels? You’d never move it. This is a shitty ladder. I don’t think I can trust this place because the people who live in it make shitty ladder choices.”

“You can see the neighbors’ windows from this patio. I wonder if the neighbors are hot. That’d be a bonus. Maybe the realtor knows. Shouldn’t ask her, though. I guess you just have to find out after you move in.”