You twisted bastard.
So, I am not going to get into much detail, but I can tell you this:
Apparently my life was going along too swimmingly this last week or so and it needed to knock me down a peg.
To stop gloating.
To stop reveling in how easy everything was happening.
Well, I suppose I should say this much.
The second buyer backed out faster than a cheap hooker flipping on the light switch to collect her tip.
Less than a week folks.
We were not expecting this at all.
I got the call from our realtor, and, as I was walking with my lady boss, couldn't react how I expected I would.
Oh! The canceled, did they? Well ok, that's fine. That was so fast! Ok great! Thanks for the call.
Yikes.
Gut punch.
Life: 2
TBag: 0
Dudes, I am supposed to be ecstatic that we are MOVING this Friday!
Not upset that my money guzzling sinkhole that is our current home, has failed us, yet again!
It is just unfathomable to think that someone else believes how I have lived my life for the past ten years is not acceptable.
As if we are living in squalor or something.
As if they found the garage based meth lab, or my enormous stash of Terminator style guns, or a bunch of freaky, kinky shit in our bedroom!
(Btw, family, they did not find any of that, it's a joke. Swearsies. Except maybe the guns. But we moved those out for the showing. It's cool.)
Annnnyyywho.
This may be what we needed.
We know there are still interested parties, and third times a charm right?
Or maybe we go the renters route. Take that fun gamble.
The pros of having a renter mean that we won't be ramen noodles poor all winter because we had to bring a boat load of our own cash money to closing. Plus, we get some other fool to pay down the mortgage for a bit.
The cons would be we could get some Section 8 housing asshole that stops paying and starts squatting. Or a pile of party people that up and destroy the place.
Life doesn't give you more than you can handle so I guess all we can do is loosen the reigns a bit and see what pans out.
We only have two more days until we officially inhabit the G Compound.
Two more days until I don't have to lose my shit every morning because the jagoff in front of me is driving too slow.
Two more days until my pups can run freely and safely within the gates of our land.
Two more days.
When I met Bayou I despised how old and hodge podgey his home was.
I was an Interior Designer for cripes sakes!
How could I possibly turn his place around?!
But I did.
All while secretly hoping it would burn down while everyone was out and we could move.
I am going to miss it a (very tiny) bit.
Miss making memories in that familiar place.
But I will not miss it's walls or location.
We can't wait to fill this new house with new design, new memories, new life!
Our forever home.
The big move and new, rather empty, interior photos to follow.
TBag. Out.
