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Thursday, August 23, 2007
no news is not actually necessarily good news
This is Thursday, the 23rd of August. This wouldn't mean much to most people (except the approximately 16.5 million people whose birthday is today; happy birthday!), but to me it means that it has been MORE THAN THREE DAYS since we were absolutely really supposed to have heard something sort of definite about you-know-what. Except apparently the mortgage company who stands to lose even more of its bankruptcy-tattered shirt on this deal had the realtor-access locks changed, which means that the appraiser couldn't get in until today, and now that he's presumably had a chance to do his appraising thing, we should REALLY hear something. By Christmas. Of 2009.
I'm feeling a wee bit more at peace about the whole thing, but only by the grace of God, and that's not to say that sometimes I don't briefly fantasize about moving into a refrigerator box on the street corner just so that I can stop with the wondering and the waiting and the freaking out. And there also might be fleeting fantasies about lobbing grenades through the windows of a certain blue-and-white real estate office -- after hours, of course -- but they're really and truly very fleeting.
Instead of the refrigerator box, it appears that we'll be moving in with my parents. I'm sorry, parents. You offered. My thought was that if we weren't able to get the house we want (which also happens to be, I am not joking, the sole and only house in our area that we can afford, including two-bedroom places which are really not an option), we would suck it up, admit defeat, and rent; moving in with Mom and Dad was only supposed to happen if we did get the house but couldn't move into it before our deadline to be out of this one. But T wants to hold off on getting into a rental for a few months, to see if the market does anything miraculous or interesting (like, say, completely recover and leave us entirely in the single-income-family dust) by the end of the year. So we are sucking it up even further and moving into my old bedroom and my parents' spare bedroom (which actually, come to think of it, was originally intended for Jenn, but she moved back to LA before she had a chance to occupy it). This is far from being all bad. Honestly, I've wanted to live out there again almost since I moved away; I just hadn't planned on invading their privacy and peace so thoroughly and for so long. We're already filling their garage with our belongings, including T's Charger, and we've also rented a storage unit to house our household furniture and also some engines and rear ends (the automotive kind) that need to be out of the weather and out of the way at the same time. I have made a spreadsheet (I may be a nerd, but hey, I am now a sane nerd -- every little bit helps) detailing what I need to do with the inside-house stuff, and when, and I was surprised by the length of the list of tasks that had "ASAP" in the "When?" column. So today I decided to tackle the filing cabinet. Five hours, two oversized and overfilled Hefty bags, and an overheated shredder later, here I am. But I guess at least that's done, I can check it off the list, and the cabinet can go in our moving sale.
Have I mentioned how much I hate moving? I truly really hate moving, and not just because it wears me out physically. The emotional strain is just as bad. Do I try to find room to store the ancient and now-nearly-untuneable piano that my father bought for me with $300 of hard-earned overtime pay when I was in tenth grade? Exactly how many pictures drawn by my son at the age of five can I throw away without sending him screaming to a therapist at the age of 25 instead of 30? Or, for that matter, without sending ME screaming to a therapist, say, tomorrow? How many times can our truck make the trek back and forth to my parents' house before it falls apart in an exhausted, trembling heap in the middle of the dirt road? How many truckloads of stuff can four people own, anyway? (answer: humankind hasn't figured out how to count that high yet.)
I swear I think about stuff besides moving. I really do. For at least seven and a half minutes per day.
(School is going OK. The online English class seems to be working out fine (even though the book we're reading might be annoying me just a wee tiny little bit), and so is the in-person music appreciation one, except I need to be more careful to duct-tape my mouth closed before class starts. Debi. will you please PRETTY please take the class and sit behind me so that you can stab me between the shoulder blades with a freshly sharpened pencil every time I open my mouth? The difficulty is that I LOVE music and I'm SO interested in it. The other students in the class never say anything when the instructor is standing there waiting for someone to contribute, and it is really, really hard to stuff my fist far enough into my mouth to keep myself from calling out answers. Next week I'm resorting to the milkshake bribe again.)
Comments
Wow, where to start? I guess I should save any encouraging words for a real email so I don't sound so ... trite. Just know that I love you and am praying for you. Glad to know how to pray more specifically though...
Posted by: Susan at August 23, 2007 06:10 PM
Excuse me! it was not a pencil I stabbed you with! it was a pen. =) I miss you in my class! I dont think there are very many friendly people in my math class, and the teacher makes Mr. R look like a completely organized brilliant professer, but hey other than that the class is fun. and I enjoy the trip down to the college every week. that has been fun. =)
Posted by: debi at August 24, 2007 08:23 AM
What makes you think you should keep your mouth shut?? You were quiet for too many years until you went back to school. Let it out and share your knowledge. Most of us appreciate your willingness to share, and those who don't don't want the education any way! I can not believe you are STILL waiting for an answer. I"m afraid in my case, that I would get a quick NO and the would be done with me,m so you must have something they're looking for. A blessing for you, you may relax your mind a little knowing you and T are not the only adults with worries and anxiety. Besides back home with Mom and Dad will have it's many rewards. Yay for your team! So a moving sale eh?? Just when will you invite me to rummage through?
Posted by: Anonymous at August 24, 2007 09:15 AM
I'm glad you're feeling better about the whole moving thing. I know just how crazy you felt. As for what to throw away...I have thrown so much away and I still feel like I'm keeping way too much. I'm sure when I'm unpacking I'll fill another few bags of trash.
And Shea's right (That last comment was Shea, right?) who cares if you speak up in class. These people are paying for an education and if THEY want to waste THEIR money keeping THEIR mouth shut, that's THEIR problem. There is no reason you should feel embarrassed or whatever because you know stuff. Let them learn from you. Besides, it makes the teacher feel more useful when (s)he knows SOMEONE is paying attention...
I love you.
Posted by: jennifer at August 25, 2007 12:25 PM
WHY are you reading that book for an English class? I can see it being in a sociology class, maybe, or history or something, but English? Is it great literature now?
Also, speak up in class -- it's your class the same as anyone else and the professor will probably be glad that someone is interested.
As for the real-estate thing, I read yesterday that the whole country is now in a housing slump and prices are falling so it may work out ok in the end.
Your kids' drawings -- take pictures of them! Then you can toss them guilt-free because you have a fabulous CD just full of their artwork. Heck, set the kids to work taking the pictures so you can sort through other stuff.
Hang in there.
Posted by: mary at August 27, 2007 07:31 AM
Mary -- the guy makes his English 1A classes have a theme. This one is "The Working Poor". The books in the class are mostly used as springboards for "class discussions" (in the class's online forum) and apparently as topics for writing assignments, although we haven't actually *had* one of those yet. I will say that the chosen texts didn't do much to assuage my worries that I would be graded on my opinions rather than my skills in this class.
Posted by: Rachel at August 27, 2007 08:54 AM
