I have no experience in home buying, loan securing, home repairing, or home ownership. I do not have a millionaire’s resources, a rich family, or high-level connections. What I have is just enough money to buy a run-down property in Detroit. That, and a hundred awesome friends.

The last 24 hours feel like they’ve gone on for days. A knot formed in my stomach as I inched myself toward the inevitable conclusion: I must buy the one in Woodbridge. I will cast my small lot with Detroit, and figure out the rest as I go. I will ask my friends for help to build and wrangle this mess of a building into a home, into the new center of our community. I will spend my weekends and every dollar I earn for the next five years to transform it into the pictures I see so clearly in my head.

Over and over I paced thru the house, paused to ponder, scowled, and make yet another cup of tea. My friend Jason could barely enjoy his coffee because of the palpable stress I was emanating. Phone calls to family. Phone calls to the realtor. Emails. Scanned documents. More pacing. My mind was so tightly wound I had to stop to meditate.

And then I did it. The offer was sent, the adventure begun. Where will it lead? Who can say.

In Gmail, I look back at all the email conversations from the process of getting this far. I select them all, and click “Move to:” and then “Detroit”.