to market.

We're selling our house.  I cannot breathe under the weight of this debt.  Neither can Caleb. 

Jack will adjust. 

We'll be spending all of our time and energy on finishing the painting and other little tidbits, plus refinishing the bathtub and retiling around it + installing a showerhead (the fucking ASSHOLES who owned prior to us dismantled the perfectly good, working shower because, from what we can guess, the tile they'd purchased was on clearance and there was only enough left to go halfway up the wall, so rather than buy more expensive tile, they removed the shower element.  I. HATE. THEM. SO MUCH.  I WILL NOT MISS HATING THEM. SO. MUCH).

Oh, the amount of hate I've felt for those people in the last year; the day we took possession of this house, I began feeling a horrific loathing for them, because they left piles of their shit in the garage and in the kitchen and in the basement, and they didn't clean ANYTHING -- ATRHGKLAL;DSKJFASDKFJ!!!!!@#$%@$#%@ so ANGRY! --- STILL!!! 

*breathes deeply*

*breathes deeply some more*

*throws things*

Anyway, where was I?, so I called Caleb and said, I don't want to live here.  I have a terrible feeling about this house.  He was driving over with his brother, in the rental van, a van already packed with our things.  I told him he could turn around and drive it to my parents' house (they live in a large place that, since they've been empty-nesters, has ample space for our junk, and while I dread the thought of living with my parents, I figured we could find something to rent inside of a week, so it was more just a rest stop, a horrible one, but better than making a tragic financial error).  He said, NO, DEBBIE, WE'RE NOT DOING THAT.  I cried, he yelled, I yelled, I backed down.

The agent told me, after I called him, that he'd let the former owners know through their agent about needing to pick up the rest of their things, and that they'd schedule a time to do so.

A few hours later, while I was unpacking and trying to cope with the bile in my throat over how filthy, HOW FUCKING DISGUSTING everything in the house was, how I didn't want to set any of our stuff down on any of the vile surfaces, there was suddenly someone yelling at me from the garage.  It was, natch, the former owners, or, more precisely, the former owner-dude and three of their four children.  I went into the garage and said, um, yes?  What do you need?  (I was shaking with anger.)  The (late-forties-ish) owner-dude wouldn't look at me, and since he was wearing those cheesy, dark Oakleys with the sharp corners, the ones from the nineties that guys wear while riding fucking ski-doos, along with his killer muscle shirt, wearing those fucking sunglasses while inside the dark garage, I was kind of alright with that.  I spoke with his teenage son who asked just what I wanted them to take.  I pointed at the piles (having already moved all of their nasty kitchen shit, all of the gross dishes and containers of MOLDING FOOD and the CRAP table and broken chairs into the garage, next to the disgusting garage refrigerator full of years of mold and filth, plus other boxes packed with nasty, extraneous detritus that I used gloves to carry) and said, please take ALL OF YOUR THINGS.  ALL OF THEM.  And then I went back into the master bedroom to sort out where I was going to PUT my clean, nice things in that filthy fucking disaster of a house.

A few minutes later, I heard the kid yelling at me.  Lady?  Lady, do you want this?

I was fuming when I walked back toward the garage.

What?  I asked.  What is it?

Lady, the kid said, rather quietly, do you want to keep the microwave?

NO.  No, I don't.  I HAVE a microwave.  Please take ALL.   OF.   YOUR.   THINGS.

ALL OF THEM.

I pivoted and left.

The last time he yelled at me, I was on the phone with my mother-in-law, pacing and crying and swearing about how much I did not want to live in that fucking squalid mess of a building, especially given how horrible the people were that we were buying from, I was coming to discover.  I told her I'd call her back, and stomped back to the garage. 

Lady, do you want this box full of spa stuff?  It's for the hot tub and the pool.

Fine.  Yes.  Leave the box in the garage. 

A trail of smoke followed me back to the bedroom.

I hunkered down and waited for their car to leave, talking to my mother-in-law in a muted string of castrated screams, and when I heard silence emanating from the other end of the house, I went and peeked out.  They were gone. 

There was still a stack of their shit.

::inner rage became a physical tyrant, leaving my body momentarily and filling the garage like a violent storm::

I reigned it in and went back to determining where things would, where they COULD, go.

We found out later, after the papers had been signed and all was done, that the spa they'd sworn was working?  Wasn't.  And that the furnace was beyond repair, and that the water heater was on the verge of needing to be replaced.  (Some of this we knew, sorta, through the home inspection, but our inspector explained that the furnace could probably be serviced.  He was in error.  The water heater hasn't started leaking yet, which is why it's the only thing we haven't had to replace.  However, if we have to, we'll work out a deal with the future buyers, because WE'RE HONEST LIKE THAT.  Did I mention that the a/c broke about eleven months into our residence here?  Yes.  We are currently faced with either fixing or replacing it.)  (Yay.)

They freaked out when Caleb began emptying the pool (the CHEESY AS FUCKING HELL LINER POOL THAT THEY'D TRIED TO MAKE LOOK LIKE AN INGROUND POOL BY DIGGING A HOLE IN THE GROUND AND LOWERING IT INTO THE HOLE) into the street, a few days after we'd gotten our things all moved in; they called their agent, who called ours, who called us, because, you see, they were standing on the property across the street, watching the water empty into the gutter.  Get this: they are adopted grandkids of the people who live directly across from us. 

AND THEY COME OVER AT LEAST TWICE A WEEK.

*shoots self in brain*

Also.  She always uses our driveway to back into when she's leaving the neighbor's house.  But I dare not speak of it, or I shall simply melt into a puddle of rage, and also, I'll be late for my second fucking interview with a company I've already worked for for two + years.  This is a job that pays approximately $9-$10 an hour.  You'd think it was a high-salaried upper-management position with a Fortune 500 corporation, given the litany of phone and in-person interviews I've had to conduct with them in the last two months.  Oh, and sending them my resume.  Twice.  (Did I mention, I WORKED FOR THEM FOR TWO YEARS?)  Sigh.  We are broke.  I have to take the flak.  It's probably good for me anyway.  Humble pie.   Yum!  (brain = not very tricked.)

Suffice it to say, I want to move like I have never wanted anything in my life.

Wish us luck.

No.

Wish *me* luck, because if we don't sell this house soon, I will go through with that suicide pact I made with me last week.

I'm almost serious.

*shakes fist at house*

Comments

[slouching mom]

ok then.

out of there it is.

post-haste.

xoxoxoxo

[dodo]

breathe. please breathe.

is it really a year since you moved there? it feels like only of months from over here.

[Mignon]

huuuuuhhhh.

Me exhaling. I'm glad you're doing this, or have decided to do this.

We are (overwhelmingly thankfully) not under the kind of financial pressure you are, but I still, probably once a day, dream of renting a nice airy condo downtown. That seems like heaven to me, sometimes.

[magpie]

yikes. sending all good quick clean tidy wishes to you. and if i were the praying type? i'd do that too.

the horror.

[Gwen]

Yeah, that's some bad karma juju hanging around that place. Good luck getting out ASAP.

[Chris laws]

GET.OUT.NOW!

Do not proceede with pact. Proceede to new house and collect $200. ( or a free seeason pass!)

[Melanie]

(((You)))

[Major Bedhead]

Wow, that is ass-hattery of the highest order. I hope it sells quickly - I've seen pictures of the work you've done and it looks like a nice house now.

Good luck. We recently moved into a rental after owning a money pit and the relief I felt upon moving was palpable.

[motherbumper]

You don't need this or that or any of it. I will be praying to my house sale gods until it happens and I'm making a useful family of voodoo dolls for the previous owners.

[Mary]

Oh the fucking mockery of real estate. I hate bad energy in houses, hate it hate it hate it. And the people across the street need to be dealt with before the house goes on the market so they don't send bad karma and bullshit your way.

Dude, I have not sold my own home, but I have helped countless others and you are just going to have to hang in there. From pix, the house looks gorgeous now.

kisses to you. It will get better...hang on.

[Anissa@Hope4Peyton]

Wow, that's one hell of a tale of horrors. I hope things work out with the job and the moving...SOON!

[Ruth Dynamite]

You will get through this, Deb. It's temporary. Things may seem out of control now, but they will settle down.

Just rewrite your own script. Life is scary and unpredictable, and you just have to ride the waves. Call me anytime.

[anne nahm]

Sounds so very painful.

[marcie]

Oh babe, I'm so sorry. I always thought your house was so cute. But I don't blame you, I would want to get the fuck out too. Finacial stuff will work itself out. And you hush your mouth with that suicide talk. Love you.

[Binky]

I hope things work out for the best--in whatever way the best ends up shaking out. And I hope you start to feel better about things soon.

[mrs. chicken]

oh deb.

that sucks the suckage. i am so sorry. sending you good selling vibes.

[Lotta]

Fuck Deb. So you get to move out once the sale goes through right?

Go get one of those house selling Saints and bury it upside down in your front yard.

Call me if you need me.

[mamatulip]

ohmygod.

good luck, babe.

[Shutter Bitch]

Oh my God. Who fucking does that? Who doesn't care to the point that they can leave their mess for someone else to clean up? I tell you what, if I leave my house ever, I will leave it clean as a whistle. I can't say "in better condition than when I bought it" because we built our house, and I doubt I could return it to new, but it would be clean. And many things upgraded/fixed (because our contractor is a joke) since we've lived in it.

[Amy P in FL]

Dude, I am so with you. We bought our house at the top o' the market only to find out the lung disease I have is exasperated by living here (not just the house, the entire state). We had our house on the market for a year. Got an offer that would just cover what we owed when we put $100k down on the house. The deal fell through because the house WOULD NOT APPRAISE FOR LESS THAN WHAT WE OWED. This is after we put $100k down.

Now, this is in no way a contest where I win because my life sucks worse than yours. I didn't want to type this initally because I didn't want to make you all shaky-in-the-shoes. Just want you to know that I'm feeling you.

Big Hugs & Back Rubs from some strange mama you've never met.

[Her Bad Mother]

Oh, sweet lady. Sending you all my best love and fortune.

xoxox

[slackermommy]

Oh Deb, I'm so sorry. That's a lot to deal with. Sending you lots of warm fuzzies.

[Jen]

As someone who lives with her mother in law (and teenaged brother in law and their three annoying dogs) I wish you the very best of luck.

Glad I found your blog, I'm having fun poking around. :)

[C Beck]

I don't usually comment but had to after reading your post. 3 years ago we purchased a home that the husband had to have. I had bad feelings about itand didn't want to move here. The home was in such disrepair that after moving in I was ready to move right back out. 35 thousand dollars worth of home improvements later, I am at my wits end. We have been trying to sell for 7 months. The housing market is terrible. Many people come to look at the house not really interested but just browsing. Keeping the house ready for showings is stressful with a job and 3 kids. People want homes in pristine condition for minimal price. If we are fortunate enough to sell we will lose everything we stuck into it. I wish you the best of luck trying to sell quickly.

[Jane]

I have so been there, and I'm so sorry. We moved into a house where a weird Norman Bates guy lived, left the basement full of stuff, and the carpet was so dirty I wouldn't move in until we had cleaned it three times. Yuck. And then the old owner would just show up randomly, usually when I was alone at home. Creeeepy.
And we got out of our house as well, the debt was killing us. We rent now, and we really like it, now that we found the right place.

[michelle lamar]

Call the priest. From the exorcist. They have guys that drive out bad spirits. Then call the clergy from the other churches, call the Buddists, the Feng Shui experts. Just so you can sell the damn house and live there. Wishing you big love and fast recovery.xoxoxox