As a kid, I used to jab my grubby finger all over the real estate agency’s window, selecting one dream house after another. If only I could go back in time and tell that freckle face to start saving every last dollar from the Tooth Fairy.
Now, as a 26-year-old, I reckon I have a bigger shot at hooking up with Adam Driver than I do at owning a house in the next 10 years. It feels like a pipe dream to own one. If our richest pals can’t even afford it, what hope do the rest of us have?
Turns out, I’ve been living under a rock because there is one helluva way to get some skin in the property game. You can straight-up win