So, they pushed our closing back. Again. My coworkers are still vacuuming bits of my brain off of the ceiling. This post might be a little disjointed. It’s hard to write clearly and concisely when your head has exploded.
If there’s anything that this month of frustration (our closing date changes almost hourly, I had some stupid shit at work, family drama, our old landlords were jerks, blah blah blah) has hammered into my exploded little head is that I have pretty much the world’s most amazing support system. Kristian has been my rock. My mom took us in and made sure that we wouldn’t be homeless. I have friends that not only were willing to help us move, they volunteered (seriously, who offers to help you move? those are some awesome friends right there).
They say that buying a house is one of the most stressful things that you can do and this short sale has invoked some sort of double indemnity clause that makes it that much worse. But, I’m trying to focus on all of the wonderful things that people have done for us. Oh, and the fact that we’re probably going to get a house out of the whole deal. Because that’s kindof awesome.
On Saturday night, we got back from bringing a load of stuff to Kristian’s parents’ house and we discovered that our landlords had been in our apartment, without notifying us. They also left a key to the front door right under the welcome mat on the porch. We still had stuff in the apartment, we still had the rest of the day on our lease. They had no right to go inside and they had no right to leave a key outside for anyone to find and let themselves in to take our things. It was the final kick in me feeling like there were things that I had no control of causing me anger and frustration. I flung myself on Kristian in the middle of our driveway and I cried for a good thirty seconds.
And then he told me that everything was going to be ok.
And I believed him (for the most part).
He also told me that he would take care of the rest of the moving. I could head over to my Dad’s house to hang out with my sister and relax a little. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized just how sick of moving I was. To know that I could be done with it and that Kristian would take care of everything else (that last load of stuff that had to go to his parents’ house, making sure that the floors were vacuumed, etc) was like my birthday multiplied by christmas with some easter candy thrown in.
Kristian could see that I was hanging on by my last nerve and he graciously took one for the team so that I could have some time to recover. We still have to move all of our stuff back into this house… but at least I know that (for the moment) I can relax a little. It’s one of many, many, many reasons that I absolutely adore this guy.
He’s also pretty darn cute.
(he’s the handsome one, on the left)
So, in summation, this whole process has been one kick in the teeth after another. But there are worse things than having to stay with your mom for a few weeks while waiting for your house deal to go through. Like living with your mom because you lost your job. Due to your drinking problem. And you’re forty years old. And you have to sleep in your old bed. And the mattress is original. That sounds like a much worse situation, one that I’m very glad not to be in right now.
Every time I start to feel let-down and discouraged, I think of all the wonderful people who have been so helpful and caring and loving through this whole stupid process.
I wouldn’t change that feeling for the world.
