So, I had settled in really nicely with this whole stay-at-home mom thing (especially now that the kids are gone all day). The laundry couch is a long lost memory, my finger and toe nails are painted weekly, I go to the gym regularly, I grocery shop with a list and without yelling at people like a crazed maniac, I go to stores if I want to...and wait for this one, if you're not already gagging you're about to...I do crafts. Ugh. I should be so ashamed, it's disgusting. I'm the very woman I used to enjoy making fun of!
But God looked down upon all of this contentment and was like, "What the hell happened here? How is she so happy? Has she finally just accepted her unemployed, non-real estate owning, broke-ass, rudderless lot in life? Did she forget that I gave her dad cancer? Someone hand me her snowglobe so I can shake this shit up, this cannot be."
(I wasn't there, but this is how I picture that it went down. And for the record, I'm back to believing in God again and have been very faithful about it. I even comprehend the Jesus thing better now and was fully embracing accepting the whole deal as-is despite some of my former doubts. I've even been praying nightly, and for people other than myself. So we should be good, I think.)
So He got in touch with our landlord and our landlord called and said that the job interview he was so sure he got...he wasn't so sure he got now. And he wanted his house back if not. By October 1st (when our lease ended but we were all under the understanding it would be extended.)
So that sucked but my brain just said, "Okay, just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming swimming swimming," like Dory does in Finding Nemo because it is very good advice. Enthusiastically I stated, "That's alright! Home is where WE are! We will find something else!" until I looked everywhere and found NOTHING else. Nothing that would accept our 2 dogs.
I had to decide if we were the type of people who would put our 13 year old German Shepherd to sleep (because who would want an ancient dog with a bad leg?) and find another home for our weiner dog. Who is a punk but he is our punk. It turns out, we are not those kind of people. But we are also not homeless kinds of people, so that was extremely stressful.
We had seen one very weird little house in a great neighborhood. It smelled bad and it was ugly. It wanted to be a beach cottage when it grew up but I think the definition of beach cottage changed in the last 60 years. It was 5 minutes from the beach, in one of the best school zones in the state and was very inexpensive. But did I mention it was weird and smelled really bad? If I had to name this house I would call it the Ugly Seagull.
So in desperation I told Mr. Ashley to take me back to the smelly house. He did not want to. I insisted and since the owner left it unlocked and gave us permission, we went inside again. It had been painted and smelled less. Its high pitched beamed ceilings and the entire back of the house being glass made it feel light and airy. It has all tile floors. Its screened back porch is enormous. It only had 2 bedrooms but they were each set up as a master and were fairly spacious. I kind of liked it. Its ugly became quirky and its little became quaint. Its price and school zone became very tempting. It is odd but so are we and frankly, I'm past caring.
We called the owner and he said we could have it whenever and do whatever and he's owned it forever and never plans on moving to it or selling it (and it's really too ugly to sell in today's market anyway but he didn't say that). Mr. Ashley was still reluctant but I was looking up Pottery Barn beach-like decor and getting excited about the proximity of Target. Also, my neighbor is driving me fucking crrrrrrrrrazy lately. That's another post but that situation is full on out of control and she just refuses to not be friends. I had to tell her FOUR times today that I did not want to and was not going to take a walk with her today. No is NOT an answer to her. She calls me every day and doesn't stop if I don't answer or return her call.
So we were going over to the Ugly Seagull tonight to sign the lease and even Mr. Ashley started to see the appeal, we were excited. He called our current landlord just to give him a head's up and he said that the position he interviewed for hasn't been filled yet, that he knows it's between him and one other guy, and that he thought he would know by Saturday. And for us please not to leave.
And I look at my lovely kitchen with the pot-filling faucet over the stove and think of the amazing neighborhood hoopla around Christmas and Halloween and how much we like walking to school, and the thought of not moving to a weird, ugly, smelly little house is very tempting. But the Ugly Seagull has grown on me and I'd also be a little sad not to move there, oddly enough.
Our current landlord called back in a panic and offered to refund the cost of whatever deposit we put on the Ugly Seagull if he did get this job offer. I guess the good news is that we won't be homeless, the bad news is that either our house will be small and strange or I'll continue having my stalker neighbor calling me every single day and being all up in my business.
So I guess I'm in limbo (and I HATE that) and will just have to trust that God has a plan (and accept that He just cannot stand any plans I may make for myself.)
But I'd rather be back to painting my toe nails and watching Maury from the treadmill.