$547K For A Shack? Utah, We Need To Talk. Now!

House hunting is supposed to be fun and exciting. You are supposed to envision yourself in each home until you find "The One." Spoiler: the prize is not a mansion, it’s a basement with “natural light” that comes from a single window well full of spiders.

I toured one “three-bedroom” apartment that was really two closets and a glorified storage room. The landlord called it “minimalist living.” That's because nothing would fit. I don't even think a queen bed would fit.

Buying a house gets depressing. Every time I check out listings, I just laugh/cry at the pathetic "affordable" options. At this point, your best financial plan is to sell plasma, collect aluminum cans, and maybe lease out a kidney.

Rentals don’t exactly save the day. Half the apartments have ceilings so low you'd get a concussion standing up too fast. Others priced around $1,700 had “shared yards,” which means you, six neighbors, and a goat are all vying for the same patch of dead grass. Also, someone tell the listing agents that if it doesn’t fit a bed, it’s not a bedroom. It’s a hallway Or storage room. In Utah we like to look on the bright side, but listing agents, this is getting ridiculous.

The truth? Utah’s housing market feels like an extreme sport. The gear list: patience, caffeine, a good sense of humor and a helmet for those low ceilings.

At this point, “home sweet home” seems like a pipedream. I wish you the best of luck.