Maybe all that power-napping has caught up with me because I couldn't sleep more than 3-4 hours last night. Oh, could have been the Large Iced Coffee I forced a colleague to get for me at about eight o'clock last night. At least I never got into those energy drinks. Well shit, of course i never would, it would interfere with my napping and now that I think of it I am kind of pissed about the ice coffee.
But that is neither here nor there. I was lying in bed- awake for once- thinking about how it will not be long before I am rid of this house. It is funny (not ha-ha funny but odd or i guess ironic) how many of my recent patients have been undergoing a lot of different stressors causing them to need to check in briefly, and a good percentage of them have as a major stressor the fact that they are afraid of or are actually dealing with having their house foreclosed on.
I am actually one step ahead of the foreclosure people, but only because they are so busy foreclosing on my patients and making them crazy. I am selling my house as a "short sale" which means people can offer less than I owe the bank, and if the bank goes along with it (and i am told they seem to do this most of the time) I don't have to make up for the difference. Now where was this whole concept when I was on the buying end of a house? Oh, you are asking $500,000.00? I'll offer 279,000. Honestly that sort of thing is possible as long as the market stays bad. So I advise any of you thinking about buying a house to go out immediately and make an extremely low offer on a house that is being offered as a short sale. Of course when i heard about this it crossed my mind to have a friend or relative to offer an incredibly low figure and we would all make out, but probably someone would have found out and it probably would not have been entirely ethical, although it is a know fact that people with cancer don't need to be as ethical as those without because we have to put up with so much else. That is true, not just a raving of mine, I read it in a Real Cancer Book.
Obviously, I just lied through my teeth, which is also encouraged for people with cancer so that people won't start to think that we are just these sweet, strong people suffering bravely through our trials that life has given us. Actually, some people with cancer can be real assholes. I know I can.
So the house. I finally finished the paperwork with The Realtor. I do not think he is on this blog, at least I hope not but I will be a little kind. The Realtor drives me crazy. It is not him, it is me. I would not be as avoidant of a hot young stud realtor in a nice car with a personality, but my poor old guy has none of the above. Actually, I have gone so far as to not answer the doorbell when he has come by. This makes no sense when he is hee to help me unload this house, but really, I have stopped worrying about whether or nor what i do makes sense. Sometimes it does, more often it does not, but I have all these chemicals running through my body making me tired, or wired, or hot or cold, sometimes both simultaneously, my hands are numb and yes simetimes I am driven to the brink of insanity- and then right back to normal and then i go to work and pretend to be the one who is not crazy when I talk to my patients. I have to say, i can put up a pretty good front. Probably because all my venting and complaining is done to a few select friends and family and now this bloggerino.
Oh, yeah, the house, tha was what I was talking about. I am not the least bit sad that I won't make money on it. I made a bunch of money on the house I sold before I bought this one, and only put some of it into the house. The rest I spent on the best summer (so far) of my life- renting a cottage for 3 months and taking Laura, Cindy and Emily on a two week road trip in Europe. Probably the only vacation I did not come home from totally broke- and probably the last one, too. Being irresponsible with the money really worked out. I was sort of the mind set of living in the moment as who knows what's going to happen in the future. And didn't two of us end up getting cancer, Emily's much worse than mine, but i will always remember celebrating her 16th birthday in Paris with mimosas and chocolate croissants.
And i am not sentimental about this house. This is not where I raised my kids. In fact, i don't even like this town. Most of my neighbors are mean. I like a few things about the house or I wouldn't have lived here seven years. I like the kitchen. it looks pretty although I never use it and I really like the pool. However, I realized that about 75% of my friends have pools and they are all excited to be entertaining me this summer. And if they're not, they will pretend they are because they can't be mean to me because I havefucking cancer!
Plus this house has not been a house where good things happened. I movved here when meghan was already out of the house in college. First my brother's kids lived with me. The youngest was a pretty good kid, at least had some personality and helped me keep my hand in criminal law. The other one, forget it. I had to do an intervention and throw him out on the street- but I think he still won, it was a while ago. Once laura went to college and I decided to rent out rooms to poor souls who needed a break- well can I pick them or can I pick them? Actually one kid was nice, paid her rent and committed no felonies;of course she left after a month or so. Everyone else thought that I was just kidding about charging them rent and decided instead to occasionally give me $20.00. Those were the good tenants. I actually had three holes punched in my walls (one on each floor) by three separate disastrous roommates. I would have done better just hanging around outside a jail and when guys got out, offered them a room. I do have to say that our friends, who were related to the last batch of felons, did fix everything, so that is not part of why my house is going to a short sale. Mainly, I think it's the economy. Oh and maybe the fact that I remortgaged it a couple of times for important things like more trips to Europe and shoes.
But I will be glad to get out of this house. Good things did not happen here. My father fell and hit his head and had a stroke here. We lived here when Emily got diagnosed with leukemia. My neighbors-well, I think they hated me anyway for no reason, but then when my dog escaped and allegedly bit some psycho's adult daughter- I maintain, I saw no teeth marks, I think he just scratched her- they went crazy complaining about the dog. Now I notice that now that I am dog-free, they all have very loud dogs who I am sure bite people all the time. People in this town are mean. And loud- not that I ever noticed until my condition required frequent naps. Plus i got cancer living here and the basement flooded the last time it rained torrentially. More bad karma- two of the people I had hired to do some pretty good work on the house are now in jail. Not because i didn't pay them enough and they had to resort to crime. One is innocent and the other, well is probably not. Which is a shame, because he was supposed to finish the upstairs bathroom, which is a big reason for the short sale.
This will be a good house for a nice family who knows how to fix bathrooms. That is who I think is buying it. This is no longer a good house for me. I basically live alone, although Laura is here part time during summer break- but i do not need 4 bedrooms and a den? family room? sunroom? attic with I am sure sqirrells and maybe bigger animals? No way. i am moving into my friend Cindy's apartment for as long as she can stand me (I have 2 back ups if I drive her crazy but i hope I won't.) It is a big place, high ceilings and all that, and i will live in one bedroom with a walk-in closet. And i will have someone to talk to. And I can afford it. And she has one of those big flat screen TV's which is really funny because she is the least technological person I know. And the apartment complex has a gym, so i can go out and buy a few outfits to wear down there while I look around and don't exercise. And Cindy is fairly neat so i plan to get rid of 80% of my possessions and clothes but not shoes before I move in. Downsizing. I am becoming a minimalist. Unless that means something other than what i think it means. Yeah, bald, giving away my possessions, probably start meditating soon. I know it is not a mountain top in Tibet, but I think it is on the third floor. I am practically the dali lama. Yeah, I knew how to spell it before chemo.