Tonight on the phone while discussing the whole Housing Situation (it now merits capitalization, and in a couple more weeks, I’ll be shouting in all caps, LUCKY YOU), Otto said this:
“I’m torn, here, because I’m trying to be the good husband and—”
There was more, but I stopped listening, because he’d just said he was trying to be a good husband and I was wondering why he used that particular word. And then I remembered it’s because HEY, HE’S MY HUSBAND! How did that happen? Oh, right, that happened about nine days ago and now I have a husband. Nifty.
Of course, we tend to be the veritable poster children for that whole Mars/Venus thing of women wanting a sympathetic ear and men needing to fix things, and once I recovered from my whole “like, ohmigod, we are totally MARRIED, dude!” reverie I had to remind him that there is no fix for the current situation.
A few people commented on the last post saying “Hey, didn’t you say you were never going to let those people in the house again?” And to you I say: Desperation causes people to do strange things! Also there was a long comedy of errors that brought me to the point where I was face-to-face at the door with Mrs. Lowball.
First, my realtor was out of town for a conference or something. He uses a service to schedule appointments, and how it works is that someone who sounds like they would rather be anywhere else than stuck at an appointment desk says that they are calling to schedule a showing, and I say okay, and then they sigh, LOUDLY, and tell me when the appointment will be, and I say okay, and they say “have a nice day ma’am” in the same tone of voice I generally reserve for proclamations like “I think that’s a dead skunk in the road.” Then I get an email that confirms the appointment and tells me who the realtor is.
When I told MY realtor that I didn’t want the Lowballs’ realtor here again, he said okay. I don’t know if that meant “I will take care of it” and then he went out of town and forgot or if that meant “Okay, turn down appointments she requests,” but I somehow accepted an appointment from her. While my realtor was unavailable.
I stewed about it, and consulted Otto, who pointed out that even though she’s an idiot, clearly she likes the house if she’s coming back to show it to more people. So I kept the appointment, but vowed to stay and not leave her here unattended.
It had never even occurred to me that she might be bringing the Lowballs in for a THIRD showing. But that’s what happened, and unfortunately, something else happened: My internet connection went all Comcastic, so I couldn’t stay home claiming to be working. I had already vowed to chance leaving the stupid realtor there on her own so that I could run over to the coffee shop and finish up some work, and then there were the Lowballs, and I didn’t know how to stay, so I didn’t.
They didn’t break anything this time, at least. Of course, they’re not buying the house, either, which is both good and bad. It’s good because I strongly suspect they are KUHRAZEE but it is bad because hello, where are my buyers?
The other people who saw the house this weekend absolutely love it. And just as soon as they sell their house out-of-state they’d like to make an offer. That will be happening right around the time that unicorns fly out of my butt, by the way.
So the house, it is not sold. It is not selling. And I still own it jointly with my ex, and although I have generally adopted a policy of not mentioning my ex here anymore because it is tiresome to receive furious phone calls telling me what I meant and what I can and cannot do, I’ll just say this: We have to agree on any action taken, and do you suppose we tend to agree with each other very often? Right. So the sale of the house (or lack thereof) is just a wee little problem right now, much as that iceberg was a wee little problem for the Titanic.
[Now could you please answer the phone for me? Here, I’ll even save you the trouble of taking a message: I’m totally wrong and unfair! There. Thanks.]
In the meantime, I feel time ticking down. First, I would like to move and do that whole living with my husband thing as soon as possible, because I like him and I feel that we require more time together to cement the foundation of our marriage. Preferably naked. (Um, just kidding, Dad!) Second, there’s the whole school thing. Should we fail to be residents within our chosen zone by the time school starts, we lose the kids’ placement. And that would pretty much suck for everyone.
Of course, I can’t really give this whole situation the attention it deserves right now. I’m too busy spending every morning checking for lice and every evening gooping up the children’s hair and combing it out with the itty-bitty lice comb. And scratching my own head. Which is totally infested with psychosomatic lice.
A good husband would totally find someone to buy my house for top dollar and also be here checking my head for nits. And rubbing my feet. Or, alternatively, listening to me whine about it on the phone and making me laugh with pronouncements like “But it’ll be fun to have everyone crammed in here… it’ll be like camp!”
I guess I’ll keep him.
You can make macrame wall hangings!
Wow I have to say that was definately a Comcastic weekend. Sorry, I really hope it gets better.
Does that mean you have a unicorn butt?
Maybe selling a house is just like falling in love. You can’t rush it or force it to happen — it just happens, and in that magical moment when the signatures are looping over the final documents, the fireworks are dancing overhead, the checks are crossing the table and the unicorns are flying out of your….backside….you know, deep within, that….
Hmm, got carried away. It goes with the “Romance and Real Estate” title.
Honestly, methinks you need chocolate.
I would offer to make you some of my amazing cookies, but since I got the recipe from you (cream chesse chocolate chip), you probably wouldn’t need me to send them. If you do indeed want someone to send you a bunch of cookies, please let me know where to send them.
Good luck selling your house! I feel for you.
So, um, would a nice, big, juicy tornado help? You know, maybe a really well mannered, poetically kharmic one? The kind that waits all quietly and politely till like, say, the Lowballs are doing their fourth showing and then sort of scoots and squiggles its way between the other houses to suck up just that particular one? Along with its Comcastic connection? Hey, it could happen. Twisters are sort of peculiar that way — kinda like unicorns.
OMG the google ads are all for lice remedies. Thanks for the first laugh of the day.
Mmmmm . . . a fresh-baked batch of cream cheese chocolate chip cookies, no samples available to the crazy lowballs when they show up for a 4th showing!
Camping is always fun – And just think, tke kids already have the bugs! *giggle*
Did you at least hand the broken soap dish to the Lowballs, and give them the evil eye?
“psychosomatic lice.”
Hahahahahaha!
Maybe this has been covered, but would it not be possible for you to move to Otto’s current place — temporarily — so you could vacate your house and then maybe it would sell faster OR you could rent it out instead of selling it? We are total crap at selling houses, so we just wind up keeping them as rentals …
Hey, maybe the Lowballs would like to rent it!
OK, sorry, I have a little Mars in me. (But, she said, but what if you hadn’t thought of that yet!)
Go move into Otto’s tiny house. Coziness is good! And then maybe move your things into storage? Because the house may sell faster empty? I know this is a pain (believe me, I know) but in the long run it may help. What about selling your 1/2 of the house to BigBadEx? Out of the question? I bet right now you wish I would shut up. Ok. I’ll do that then.
Just sayin’, maybe it is me, but can’t you move and then fly back to sign the paperwork and close? Is it necessary for you to be physically present in the house for it to sell?
Is it possible to leave the house for the Ex to sell while you move down to be with your husband *gasp! Scary word, isn’t it?* Since you jointly own it, and summer is an okay time to leave homes unattended (bad winter – frozen pipes), would it be possible to have him be in charge of selling it?
hee hee…unicorn butt. Cele is so funny.
Would a bridge loan be a good idea? I think it would scare the bejeesus out of me but so would lice and you seem to have met that enemy bravely.
From the time you were about six I have suspected that you would not be well suited to a cloistered existence.
But this, wanton, shameless behavior…. So very, human of you!
Mir, you are smart as well as pretty and I’m sure you’ve considered this already. But when I was trying to sell my house, well, it sold when we moved out. With everything out, I think buyers could picture themselves there easier… plus less kid stuff all over the place. Of course you don’t need to explain yourself to us, but I think most of us don’t understand why you don’t just move to GA and keep paying the mortgage on the first house until it sells, the way you would have if you hadn’t met Otto.
I hate to see you going through so much stress. And yet, that’s part of what makes this blog so interesting. Our own little daily dose of Desperate Housewife. Hmm… Everything will work out fine. There’s always a cliffhanger at the end of one season, but everything is resolved nicely in the end. Plus, you’re so great and wonderful that you are bound to come up with an awesome answer. And you have such a wonderful supporting cast, too!
Is it weird that reading your blog makes me scratch my head? I so wish I could just come out there and buy your house for you or force someone else to do it.
Sorry about those effin’ lowballs. How infuriating!!
I’m with all the others who say move now and come back when the house sells. Less stress, more Otto.
Ah, the Lowballs. If it’s any consolation, think how much their kids must get teased at school.
(Ha, if only, right?)
Oh, honey. (shakes fist in solidarity)
My house hasn’t sold yet, either. I would buy yours if I didn’t already now have (gulp) TWO.
Psychosomatic Lice. I *knew* there was a medical term for it.
For me, most of the Google ads are for lice treatment, but one is titled “Fix your marriage.” The only fix this marriage needs is geographical!
One more vote for MOVE. Cozy living is kinda fun. It makes the getting naked part more challenging, and it’s more fun when it doesn’t involve lice, but hey! Life is always better with a good challenge or two, right?
Uh oh, maybe you better move now–one of the Google ads is for Secret Pre-Divorce Advice…
Oh phooey on your ex. As the new quote says, “Put on your big girl pants and deal with it.”
And what the heck’s with the lice? I have some catch-up reading to do.
Hang in there!
Hey there, right one voodoo curse coming for mr and mrs Lowball, and in the same sentence one massive prayer and request to the powers that be that the next person to walk into your house accompanied by a realtor will be instantly in love with it and buy it for exactly the price that you want.
Oh and they have the money already in their back pocket!!
“…checking my head for nits.” HA HA HA! You are funny when you are stressed. I haven’t been here in a while; I’m searching for the Lowballs story right now.