From Owning to Renting - A Six Month Roadmap to Financial Regression
June 18th, 2007 by Dusty
The Skirt and I started looking for houses in November. We have written four offers, three contracts, and now have zero houses to show for it. Well, we may not have found a house, but at least we wasted a lot of money trying.
The first house was under contract contingent on the sale of my condo, which I thought would sell in a matter of weeks. I guess 4000 weeks still counts as a matter of weeks, but I didn’t clarify that with Xenu ahead of time, and Xenu is a god of torture and pain. So we basically lost out on the first house when the contract expired. Fast forward six months and I am sick of trying to sell my condo so I put it up for rent when we found a house we really loved. I’d post a picture, but I know how people are, and frankly I don’t care if you think we are paying too much or it is ugly or whatever.
Within 48 hours I had a signed lease for my condo and we were officially under contract (again). We jumped through the requisite hoops to get loans, insurance, and all of that crap, spent a thousand bucks or so on a survey, appraisal, and finally an inspection. The selling agent sucked possum balls. She wouldn’t return calls to our agent, let offers and counter offers expire, and generally seemed disinterested in selling this property. Had I been the builder of the house from whom we were buying, I would have fired her four times and slashed her tires. Then again, were I the builder, I would have built a livable house. More on that in a moment.
Once we convinced them that they were contractually obligated to turn on all utilities so we could have an inspection (four days prior to closing), the inspector and I poked around the house for a couple of hours looking for potential problems. This was a brand new house. It was built less than a year ago and no one had lived in it yet. After going over the inspection report, it turns out our rookie builder didn’t believe in things like “building codes” and “gravity”. Let’s just say the place needed several thousand dollars worth of work before it would be safe to live in, and there was no way it could be done by Thursday.
Here’s the thing about a bunch of little problems and/or a couple of big ones – at a certain point you begin to lose faith in the situation. Sure, we needed a larger ridge vent in the attic. And perhaps the drain line from one of the A/C units was running inexplicably uphill. That can be fixed. What’s that you say? There is no footing under the pillar that holds up the front porch? Hmm. And there is no flashing on said porch, so water is getting behind the siding? Uh…
Basically when the inspector crawled out from the crawlspace and said “you need to get away from this house. The pilings holding up the bottom floor are not secure in any way, and there are no footings” our decision was made. All of the problems were fixable given enough time and money, but now we were wondering about the parts of the house that we couldn’t see. As far as I know, Johnny Cutcorners bought the lumber from a landfill on the cheap because it was only slightly damaged and he was pretty sure the fire killed most of the termites.
So we bailed on that deal. Now we had about three weeks to get into another house before my renter moved in and we found ourselves homeless. We pondered the merits of being homeless…we figured that with our jobs and knowledge of how to earn a buck, we could effectively become king and queen of the urban outdoorsmen. I was all for unionizing them and organizing them into a workforce of sorts – the Atlanta local 403 nothing masons, if you will. We could demand payoffs in exchange for staying out of your neighborhood and investigate other vehicles of extortion. The Skirt would keep the books and lay the smack down on those who fell out of line (she loves nothing more than a good hobo beatin’), and we’d have the best cardboard house under the nicest overpass…
We thought better of that and made an offer on another house. In this case, the seller didn’t know how to play the game. They basically were looking for a 30% return on a house they had owned for two years. We offered what we thought was a fair price, and they didn’t budge. They said that there was a lot of interest in the property and everyone wanted to buy it and so on. When someone says something to you that you know is untrue, it is because they think you are stupid. That makes me want to punch people at random because I am 99 things but stupid ain’t one. We have seen house after house drop their price $20-$50k in the months following a proclamation of “lots of interest”.
Our response was to wish them luck and let them get back to us in a few months when they have had a good taste of how unfriendly the market is to sellers right now. We’ll see if we still have enough money at that time to match our original offer. My gut tells me we will not.
Unfortunately my condo is rented and we have to go somewhere. Rather than force ourselves to buy a house we don’t really want or can’t afford, we decided to rent. I am not a fan of paying rent instead of owning a place. I guess it is what it is for now. We got a bigger place in one of these fancy high-rise buildings to see if we like the idea of taking an elevator to get to our car.
This whole ordeal has brought back an old friend of mine that I was really hoping I had seen the last of, and that is depression. This time he brought his college roommate, Anxiety, who is just as big an asshole. Depression’s all “Hey sporto (kicks me in the nuts jovially), you ready to feel irrationally unworthy and not look forward to anything? Why am I even asking? I don’t give a damn if you want to or not.” And then anxiety is all like “Yeah, and this time you get to feel like you are having a heart attack in the middle of the night, too, because Captain Sweaty McNightmare is driving this particular hell train! Hope you like the sound of shallow breathing and your blood pressure going through the roof, because we’re in for a good time!”
I am getting about three or four hours of sleep a night; going to sleep at ten, waking up at midnight and laying there panicking about anything and everything that crosses my mind until 5 am. Then I get a good hour or two of z’s before waking up exhausted. Good times.
The point where it really stopped being cool at all was one night when I thought to myself “Dammit, I need to get back to sleep. I’ll probably be dead in 25-30 years, and ten years after that no one will even remember me, so who gives a shit anyway? I’ll just ride it out like everyone else does.” I’m pretty ashamed to even admit that kind of crap crossed my mind. Even more ashamed to admit that it helped me fall asleep.
I decided to call a shrink to see if I could talk to someone about how to rewire this stuff and get back to being funny and creative (or at least convincing myself that I am). I know “real men” aren’t supposed to admit that they have problems, but I never claimed to be a real man. I have a cat, I like to paint, and I cry at weddings. Or maybe it was funerals. Or maybe weddings and funerals are the same thing, but one takes six months longer to plan. Anyway, I’m presently doing a sub-stellar job coping with the goings on in my life, and I made a couple of phone calls to folks who might be able to help me sort this out.
So far, no one has returned my call. Is it just me, or is that sort of funny?
Best wishes Dusty.
Oh, and… “Why they gotta be URban?”
Dusty — I’ve been living in varying forms of financial hell since 2001 (thank you dot-bomb meltdown). It’s a high-class hell but sucks all the same. I like your reasoning — probably cause I’ve used the same line pretty regularly.
So two quick points of advice:
1) find yourself a competent buyer’s realtor, and
2) find something that needs some work so you’ll feel better about the 2-3 months where you’re paying rent and mortgage!
I go through something similar, periodically. I haven’t figured out what to do about it yet, but I can tell you that I have determined (through the process of elimination) that the following are NOT the way to go:
* trying to reconnect with your inner alcoholic (all roads lead to shame)
* wallowing in self pity, or a wading pool of jello at a strip club with your best girlfriend after trying to reconnect with your inner alcoholic (shut up, I was 21 and stupid and I thought it would be funny, thereby cheering me up; see “shame”, above)
* jogging - it just sucks in general
Let you know if I come up with something good to try. You do the same.
**C**
Yay for un-real men - they’re the proper ones.
I hope your calls are returned and you’re able to kick both Depression and Anxiety square in the scrotums (scroti?) in retaliation soon.
Dusty, I have pretty much been where you are … house hunting hell, check. Semi-homeless, check. Depressed for good reason, triple check. You have my most heartfelt sympathy. Hang on by your fingernails, and know that it will eventually work out. Be thankful you have the skirt to share your travels. It’s overwhelming to go though all that alone.
And yes, you are still funny.
Thanks.
I’ve been there. It sucks. It gets better. Keep yer’ head up.
The Skirt would keep the books and lay the smack down on those who fell out of line (she loves nothing more than a good hobo beatin’)
The Skirt is my newest hero. I too wake up after only 3-4 hours sleep only to doze off just before my alarm goes off and I’m not even trying to buy a house. Oy.
Fear not the good drugs that (hopefully) some psychiatrist will offer you, once they return your call. They are things of amazing wonderment and should be used liberally to help get over such times as you are facing!!!
And, hey, despite the depths of depression and recent dearth of entries, yours is still my FAVORITE blog. I always laugh the loudest and at the most inappropriate times as I peruse your latest writings. Get well!
My friend and I are in the beginning process of looking for a condo to purchase. I’m starting to think we started thinking about this too late. Unfortunately we are locked into a lease until Septmeber and will be unable to move until then, and if we dont renew the lease, and live here month to month, the price doubles. Since the reason we’re moving is affordability (yeah, we cant), having to find a place by 9/1 is really pressuring us. We’re working extra hours to pay bills we have incurred now, and both looking for a new place in a dirty city that we left less than a year ago because it’s cheaper.
Fabulous.
Good luck.
If I prayed at all, I would pray for you.
Love
b
Dusty,
I really want to laugh at your pain right now but I just think it’s the wrong thing to do.
chin up, buckaroo.. chemical imbalance is a natural part of life.. besides.. the drugs for it are good.
Don’t feel like you owe us anything in the meantime, though.. because even though you really do, we can wait.
“laying there panicking ” - well, at least you’re getting laid.
Dude … I’m so there if you need me. I’ll even give you my toll-free number if you want. :^}
Ever heard of the leaky condo crisis in BC, Canada? We owned one and in addition to the mortgage of $200,000.00 we were given the privilege of borrowing another $50,000.00 from the bank interest free for 3 years to pay off the new envelope. After 3 years the balance of the loan was due or you ended up paying the going rate of interest. And all of a sudden it was nobody’s fault that the 90% of all condo’s built were leaking and no one was made to buck up except the owners, many of whom threw their keys in and declared bankruptcy. Yet, from the onset all the condo’s were guaranteed by the Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation, well they conveniently went bankrupt too, but magically re-appeared when most of the condo’s were re-built. Well, at least the banks got most of their money back so they were ok, and the builders and architects they are doing very well too. So, not all was lost.
At least you don’t have an albatross like that hanging around your neck and got out before you ended up like us. We were lied to by so many levels of builders and government we wouldn’t have recognized the truth if it stopped by shook our hands and introduced itself. You owe the inspection guy the world of thanks, wish we had one, that’s right we did but he lied too. We lived with a circular saw blade stuck in one bed-room for three months as they cut off the cladding to the place. The place was three years old.
Chin up, we made it and sometimes adversity brings people closer together. This is a new adventure, albeit a little fucked-up and unexpected but maybe will spawn new ideas. Maybe buy another condo, rent it out too and use the combined profits to rent something for you and the skirt. Voila, you’re a landlord filling the market of hard to find quality rentals.
I gotta say. Take your time and feel better. Now that i’ve been off my depression meds for a year now, I never realized how dull and numb they make you feel. If necessary, take the prescripts until your doctor is willing to try to wean you off. I actually have a conscious, feelings, and care about myself now that i’m clean of prescripts.
Good luck with everything, pet the cat, hug the skirt, and Ride like the Wind, to be free again.
I’m sorry to hear that you’re going through such a rough spot. Hopefully it’ll make the eventual clear-up much sweeter. Take your time, do what’s good for you, and forget the people that don’t matter in the end.
Take care
Okay, I just moved last week. The idea was to move from a house I can’t afford to rent into an apartment I could and then buy a house I can afford in 1-2 years. After the past week of hell, earthlink refusing to connect my internet until three weeks AFTER I placed my request, discovering my ex left me a lot of furniture I can’t actually lift on my own, and breaking the tailgate on my parent’s truck, I’ve decided I’m never moving again. I’m going to die in that apartment and after you pry my cold dead remains (what the cats haven’t eaten anyway) off the sofa, you can use my insurance money to hire some guys to move my shit to Goodwill.
Good luck finding a house.
Goddamn it Dusty if you can’t be funny then how can I go on???
Sorry bad joke there. In all honesty I hope that “life” gets better for you and yours in the coming months. I too am in a situation where finance isn’t great and so I am stuck in a one bedroom flat that has grown WAY too small.
Oh well at least I’m flying eh?
Awesome luck with finding the right house!
G’day, mate. Nice post. You always leave us thinking, that’s for sure. And hey, if there’s one thing you don’t need help with, it’s being funny again. If you get any more hilarious my pants will be supersaturated instead of just highly concentrated with urine. Chemistry reference there for ya. It says a lot about you that you can write like this even when feeling low and exhausted. You be well, bloke.
Hey Dusty,
Sorry to hear about your current situation. And I thought customer service here in South Africa was bad! If you ever need someone to chat to, feel free to email me. I’m no therapist, but after telling you how crappy MY life is, you might just feel a bit better…
If not, good luck with the house hunt.
Realtors suck ass. All of them. All. Of. Them. Suck ass they do.
When I was a trim carpenter in Atlanta we called them Shake ‘N Bake houses. Hauling ass to slap an 8-piece crown molding package into the ceiling b/c the buyers would rather have an impressive entrance than solid wood in the basement…Holding up the house. It sucked.
Now we live in a house built in 1911, back when houses were built by one crew, not multiple gangs of subcontractors pissing in the dark corners of unfinished closets.
Good luck with the house. It will work out. I subcontracted the purchase out to She Who Cleans Better Than Me. All I cared about was (1) did the house have a kitchen, and (2) did it have a garage.
And I sympathize with the depression-waking-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night thing. Me too…
Hi Dusty dear, I’m glad you’re doing something about the big D. It will open a whole new world of friends for you - it’s just amazing how many social conversations regarding medication comparisons I’ve noticed going on since I got on zoloft. Everyone compares notes; much better than the days when depression was so shameful and could not be discussed, even within the family (just ask my dad). I came through the back door to treatment, so to speak - found out about my depression because of the anxiety attacks I was having (boss from hell was the cause of that). Also, you might find it interesting that many (not all) people suffering from depression tend to be extremely funny and fun to be around, so you fit the profile and have lots of friends in the “community”. It’s just when we’re by ourselves, alone with our brains, that the black cloud descends. Humor helps me, which is why I look forward to your blog entries. I suggest a blog written by “Mimi Smartypants” for you - it’s good medicine. Along with the zoloft.
Oh! Oh! I want to add my financial story!!
Lost job last July, moved 2 1/2 hours away to another job, moved in with three other people in a house at new job location. Still owned house in other town, been trying to sell since last November, rented for a time, renter moved out last month, I moved into one bedroom last month, still have house, empty, now have new rent PLUS full mortgage payment. Stresssssed owt!
Lorazepam 0.5 mg, under the tongue. Or two. Not a great long-term solution, but it does knock out the anxiety and get you back to sleep. Has a short half-life in the blood too, so you don’t wake up like you have a hangover. I keep a bottle on the bedstand, take one or two as soon as I wake up with “that” feeling. You can probably tell when you wake up if it’s going to be one of ‘those’ wake-ups. Good luck with it.
I used to drink Captain Morgan. Now it seems the bartenders mix my drinks with Captain Anxiety. I’m amazed at your fortitude through this process- honestly, I’m making fudge in my pants and crying at the drop of a hankie while moving from one apartment to another. Did someone mysteriously install a dowel rode through your lungs as well? I feel a bit like a Jack-in-the-box, only the “POP” is going to be me, hauling off and smacking every bitch whose been in my way for the past two months. I may have to travel a bit… .
Funny stuff man. Call me or Eric - I know the BEST buyers agent in town. (She pleases me, so imagine her stamina)
Dude, if you are buying intown, it is ONLY a buyers market if one of the two following conditions exist:
1. The home is over 500k
2. The home is a piece of crap
If it is under 400k and well done, it is a sellers market - sorry. I’d be happy to help you out, though.
Sorry to hear about the suckage, and I congratulate you on asking for help. It’s a harder thing to stand up and ask for help, especially in light of the “real men don’t …” attitudes.
Screw them all. I’m a man, and I love my wonderful wife, and I love my daughter, and I cry at both weddings and funerals, regardless of how long they take to plan.
Firt off, I’ll never stop reading you. Be it a funny post, a rant or just a post about life - I’ll still read it and enjoy it.
Secondly, I know you don’t need to hear this, but I’m going to say it anyway: You’ll get through this. Sometimes “it” just sucks. You know exactly what “it” is too. “It” can be life, your job, the weather, that annoying dog next door that your neighbors like to let outside at 1:30 in the morning and then wait for the dog to tell them that it wants to come back inside by barking for 20 minutes straight. Bottom line, it sucks, but you get through it. Going to talk to someone, I dare the person who snubs their nose at anyone who seeks to better themselves. And being a sub-man? At the risk of sounding a might bit fancy, you are the uber-male. There’s a reason why both male and female readers flock to your posts, and it’s more then just the hope that you’ll find a new way to injure yourself.
And as a last point that again I’m sure you already know - Take solice in the fact that you have the skirt by your side. I’ve been married for just three years now and can say with 100% clarity that my wife is my rock. If it wasn’t for her, my family that I know will stand behind me no matter what happens to me in life and the fact that I consider my friends true friends, I don’t know where I’d be. I’ve been reading you for several years and I know how much you value your family (Mom, Dad and Brother - I’m sure you needed that spelled out) and having the skirt by your side is icing on the cake. Do what you need to do but know that you’ll be fine.
Take it easy guy.
Blah, Blah, Blah…
Life Sucks…
We’re all doomed…
I hear our story ends with us dying at the end.
Look over your shoulder man, Cause the Pigman’s hiding in that “thar” display of cans and he’s coming for you.
Or maybe I am just insane.
Hey Dude, I went to a physchiatrist Friday, He took me off the zoloft I’ve been on for years and gave me Lexapro for the anxiety/depression and Campral to replace the Captain Morgan (works great for the alcohol cravings) I’m feeling MUCH better! I have increased libido, decreased appetite, vivid dreams and I’m not schnockered out of my mind. Life is Good. I know because I’ve had to move twice in the last 2 years because of an abusive ex- funsucking-stalker husband. I had to go to a safe house for woman. Living in that house was the lowest point in my life. I had 30 days to find a place to live. After living in the apartment that I found for one year, they wanted to raise the rent $200 a month! So I bought a mobile home. My house payment is cheaper than rent - but it’s a trailer. I’m happy though because it’s all mine. I’ve had to change all my numbers, my name, everything! On top of all that I’ve found a wonderfal man that treats me like a princess so yes, Life is good. I tell you this because you have been with me throughout the whole ordeal. You have always given me something to look forward to. I feel like I know you and you’re my friend. I do pray and I’m praying for you man.
Rock on Mertle!!! And you two D. I know youll prevail.
Snap out of it, man!
I just bought a house, too. Four contracts (or was it five) later, it’s all done. Was it difficult, you ask? Well… The first sellers were fucking certifiable. Apparently Psycho tried to list their house with our buyer’s agent last year, and our guy wouldn’t list it for what Psysho wanted. So he listed with someone else this year…for the price our guy suggested to him last year. We make an offer, they accept. Two weeks later they call their agent in tears saying that they can’t find a place to live and what do they need to do to get out of this contract? Apparently they thought that 2 weeks AFTER their house is ostesibly sold is the perfect time to start looking for a new place in another state. I guess they didn’t like what they found in Tennesee. They offer us 2 grand to let them out of their contract. We have about 15 minutes to mull this over before our agent calls again and informs us that Psycho says that if we do not accept his 2 grand and let him out of his contract by the end of the night (it’s about 8:30 pm)the money is off the table and he will explore his legal options. We discuss this and decide that even though that retard signed a contract, he still has tenancy at the property, and just to be an asshole he could let us go through with the inspection, etc and then not bother showing up for the closing…My brain is on fire with rage at this point, so I tell our guy to accept his offer, but to make sure he knows that if he pulls any more nonsense before I have my 2 grand in hand that I will come to his house and beat him with a shovel. In the end, I’m happy that the deal fell through, because now I have a house that’s 10 times better than that one and I will always laugh at the thought of that guy paying us 2 grand plus both agent’s commission (totaling more than $10,000) to NOT sell his house. Our realtor said that he’s only heard of this happening one other time, when a woman wanted out of her contract because GOD told her not to move to a new house.
Been a reader for a while now (thanks to the big Z over at DriverHeaven) but never posted. Great stuff Dusty please try to keep it coming when the world gives you the chance. Even through past bad times you’ve stayed funny.
Skip the drugs if you can, they just make for trouble later on no matter how good they may be now. Get out & go fishing for a while. I’d suggest some cross country running or mt biking but I know you like fishing better. Being outdoors is best remedy.
Anything dealing with home buying/selling sucks.
I bought a new house 9 months ago. Two months ago I bought an additional 5 acres of land ($45k value) to add to it with the plan of refi’ing everything into one big mortgage. Turns out that (according to the local appraisers & “the market”) the value of the house AND the new land is about $30k LESS than what I paid for JUST the house… talk about BS. The whole thing is a HUGE racket - realtors suck, home appraisers suck, builders & subcontractors suck, closing attnys suck, taxes & stamps (just what the hell are these state stamps for anyway?!!) suck.
I’ll say a praryer for ya.
Dude…moving and its associated woes suck ass. Somehow, it always seems to work out in the end.
Good luck.
Hang in there. The fact that you are still writing (and there is no loss of talent & humor, I might add) tells me you’re gonna make it! You WILL look back on this with a smile - and next time, you’ll approach the process more educated and prepared for the knuckleheads out there.
It looks like your old friend and his roomate also brought with them their second cousin once removed - Frustration. Doesn’t it just tick you off that people - in this case that builder - can get away with that sh*t? The next person who comes along may get stuck with that house and the builder walks away from it unscathed.
Look for the silver-lining. It’s not hard to find - others above have pointed to it, too. The Skirt. This is just one of another adventure in your lives. Remember - the bad times make the good times that much sweeter.
Hang in there~
Man.. I feel your pain. Although I am not ready to dive into the market, I know what it’s like. Just remember..everyone lies and everyone is greedy. You just have to beat them at their own game. Wear them down and derive great pleasure from it. Be a sick little monkey. You’ll find your place soon enough. Just take the realtor by the pocketbook and shake them real hard. Good luck and remember, you have a ton of people here on your side! If all else fails, at least you are lord of the condo and can do your vaudevillian piece on the new tenants.
hang in there, dusty. I’ll be praying for you. stressful situations really can trigger depression, so you are wise to get help. This too shall pass…
There’s St. John’s wort. Available at vitamin and nutritional supplement stores. You’d be self medicating, though. Don’t know if you’re open to that type of approach.
Check this out: http://www.hypericum.com/
Cowboy up, son.
You’re funny, stop convincing yourself otherwise~ and what you mean you’re not getting no love? I just read 30 plus comments saying otherwise. You’re the most loved man in America, next to Michael Moore. See? You could easily write about him and instantaneously feel better.
love ya man… wish i could say something encourageing that hasen’t been said yet or would help. just keep plugging away. remember… “today is tommorrow’s ‘good ole days’”…
Just remember that money (or lack thereof) cannot kill you or take away the love people have for you. Likewise, where you live doesn’t define who you are or have any power of you. You make us mostly faceless blog readers smile all the time, and I’m one of the many that hope you are smiling too
Zoloft, my brother, ask for it (takes about 2 weeks to reach its peak effectiveness, but well worth the wait). Xanax for the times in between. It will get better, it always does. The complete bitch about anxiety is that half the time you forget what made you anxious because now you’re so focused on “did my heart just skip a beat?” or ” i feel like my right arm is numb and my fingers tingle, oh, shit, Elizabeth, it’s the big one”…Find yourself a good Doc and all will be fine. Guaranteed.
You don’t need therapy. You need some drugs.
It’s amazing how much better a little extra seratonin makes you feel.
As for the house ordeal, you should move to Kansas City. You’ll get more house for your buck, and then you’ll have a respectable football team to cheer for… if you cared.
Sorry you’re feeling down. I won’t tell you to “suck it up, Buttercup” because I get that it’s a chemical thing.
I will tell you a little something that may put your problems in perspective. My husband is currently serving 15-18 month tour in Iraq. He’s living in a big plastic tent with 60 other sweaty soldiers–the tent is only built to hold 30. He only gets to talk to me and our three small children once a week. He goes to be to the sound of gunfire everynight. Everyday I worry that a chaplain will show up on my doorstep to tell me he’s dead, or that both his legs have been blown off.
So, I come here to read your blog in the hopes of a little laughter amidst my terror. Instead, I read that you’re depressed because you can’t buy your dream house. At least The Skirt is sleeping next to you in your rental. It could be so much worse.
At the risk of being trite… have you noticed how much trim responds to your blogs?! Dude, this many women haven’t even acknowledged my existence in my entire life. I know times are tough, but you still have the ability to deliver the chuckles, a loving skirt, and apparently many adoring female fans.
And remember, somebody out there has it way shittier than you. It’s selfish, but it always pulls me through.
I just found you again after months of being Pork starved, and I’ve got to tell you I think you’re fantastic still!
You help to pass my meaningless hell filled days of sitting behind a computer screen while pretending I have something to do.
I’m a huge fan of better living through chemistry. It’s the only thing that’s helped me through the past months of trying to sell my own place. I don’t understand all of the retarded people out there that see it on-line and it says “1 bedroom loft” and “spiral hardwood staircase”, and yet they think when they show up that it will magically have grown a second bedroom, or that their wheel chair will be able to magically navigate the staircase. I hate them all.
Good Luck to you and The Skirt! I don’t know why things like this always happen to you, but part of wants them to continue solely so you’ll keep writing about them!
Besides living in a tent with 20 sweaty men and waking up to gunfire every morning (many thanks to those of you that do to keep us safe) You could live in Pocatello. As Dad would say…this to shall pass. It will. We keep waiting for Pocatello to pass. Your niece and nephew adore you and we’ll see ya in a couple of days. Love ya little bro’!
Dusty,
Buying and selling is never a fun experience. You never hear people telling stories of how much fun they had at a closing or in negotiating a purchase price. But if you do want to put yourself through that process again I can maybe help. I live in Atlanta and have been appraising for 10+ years. I also know a great agent that will represent you and will bust his ass to get things done.
Tony Mc
Dusty, email me for my cell phone number so that if you find yourself calling the suicide hotline, and they put you on hold, you can call me instead. It’s the least I can do. I told those two assholes, Depression and Anxiety to find themselves another sucker. Sorry it was you.
Hang in there, in a hundred years none of this will matter anymore.
Well I see that the previous 50 people have given you all the advice necessary to climb out of this financial mess, and I’m excited to know that when I need sound financial advice, you have 35-40 certified CPA’s as commenter’s right here on your ever so humble blog…that has to make you feel pretty good, having all those really educated and smart people just sitting there willing to help you out for free.
Awesome!
So here is some advice they have forgotten…
Avoid the clap.
Nightmare.