I Might Need Traction

I wasn't going to post at all today and it has nothing to do with the fact that only three people seem to read me on Fridays and I can usually manage to piss at least one of them off. It's because I didn't want to have YET another "Oh-Woe-Is-Me,-I'm-Moving-Post."

Nevertheless, the past few days have been of such spectacular Suck-o-tash that I am posting anyway and if you're not in the mood for blatant self-pity and whining, you should go over to Miss Doxie who (although not a FAMILY writer, given the sheer amount profane utterances and the fact that she's not married and has no children) is one of the funniest blog writers I have ever read in my life. Seriously, I made my husband read some of her entries because they were THAT funny. And he even LAUGHED. She's a bit sporadic but you can come HERE for Regular and Whiny or go THERE for Sporadic and Hilarious.

So, the first thing that happened is that I was once again proven to be a Negotiation Imbecile when I paid our painters (in cash) before they'd finished the job. So, guess which painters haven't been exactly reliable this week? Guess whose husband keeps saying things like, "I'd be glad to handle this type of business transaction in the future. No pressure but I'd be glad to be the Bad Cop if you need me to."

I guess it's fairly clear that I'm not exactly a taskmaster. It's just that we knew we were going to be showing the house this week on Friday and I was kind of hoping that the painters would have done the things I'd asked of them by then. Like hanging the new shutters, which arrived on Wednesday, which was also the last day I heard from said painters. Coincidence? You make the call. The shutters didn't get here until 8:00 at night, naturally, but still. And you know, to be fair, it did RAIN a fair amount this week but yesterday was balmy and they could have, oh, I don't know, come back and installed the shutters and given the front door another coat of paint it so richly deserves, don't you think? Because I'd already PAID them for that. Did I mention I'd already paid them? And I did my "Bond With The People" thing, which is truly my greatest talent. If we're in a room for more than 20 minutes together, I will get your story. (Seriously. For a writer, that is a good trait. I just have one of those faces that people want to talk to. And then totally disregard, apparently.) It turns out that one of the painters used to be a drummer and he and I knew some of the same people. And he looked exactly like Iggy Pop only, possibly, skinnier and I felt sorry for him so I gave him one of my husband's coats... and then, nothing.

Because I am a big sucker, that's why.

Anyway, I worked all day yesterday packing up stuff and taking it to the garage. My husband pitched in when he got home but he had to do this little thing called "Working Two Jobs" since he is transitioning from one to the other and what that means is that he has to be some sort of super-human and in two places at once and neither one of those places is at home packing up plastic, lead-infested toys and other useless crapola into boxes. So I did a lot of that and then he got home and did a lot of that WITH me and then I did more of that this morning, plus I cleaned the dang house because the showing was scheduled for 12:30 TODAY and the housekeeper doesn't come until tomorrow. I don't know what she's going to DO tomorrow but I'm thinking we have to get some of those boxes back out and go through them because I can't find the checkbook. (Whoopsie.)

In the midst of all this, I kept trying to do a little laundry but since my DRYER is STILL broken and the Sears repair people STOOD ME FREAKING UP after I waited three weeks for the "next" available appointment, laundry was hard to do. My dryer sort of works but only for about ten minutes and then it has to rest for an hour. It can't seem to ignite more than once an hour. (No jokes, please.) It's been broken since before Thanksgiving.

This morning, Scout had to go to the vet to have this growth taken off his side. He was actually scheduled to go YESTERDAY but I forgot and fed him breakfast and then the sedation was out of the question so we rescheduled for today. Which turned out to be a good thing because the people who came to see the house have a child who is very afraid of dogs. But I'm getting ahead of myself...

So then the people came to see the house. A couple from New York with two kids--one three-and-a-half and one a bit less than one, I think. They brought the kids with them, naturally. The older child was deathly afraid of Sydney so I took Sydney with me when I left, to allow them to see my house.

I really liked the couple. As I drove away, I thought about how we have kids exactly the same age apart as their kids and what a great house it is for kids to grow up in. I thought of all the stories I could tell them. I thought about telling them how we used to just spread out huge sheets of paper in the kitchen for finger painting and then put a bunch of old towels and a couple of buckets with warm soapy water on the those towels and presto! Clean children and clean kitchen floor! I thought about telling her how she could leave the little one napping in a Pack-n-Play on the screened-in porch while she swam with the older one... I love my house so much. I really wanted them to love it, too.

Syd and I went and gassed up the van and then went to Goodwill to give away all the stuff we'd stashed in my van and then we happened to swing by a Starbucks (the van drove itself, I swear) and then we went and parked down the street from my house but facing the other way, so it wouldn't seem like I was pressuring them. I knitted, Syd slept. And hour went by. One of my beloved neighbors came by and stopped to ask if I was okay. I explained. Time went on. Pretty soon it was time for the school bus to arrive so I drove home --there was no one there. See, I had been under the impression that their realtor was going to call me when the people were done looking at my house and I got all hopeful that they were taking so long because they were in love with it. Which is how WE bought it, you know. I walked in and just knew it was the house for us.

But, uh, no.

She didn't call. So I don't actually KNOW how long they were in the house. And we haven't heard from them so I guess they weren't as much like us as I hoped.

All of this activity (the packing, the moving, the errand-running) came back to haunt me when -- HELLO -- my foot (the reconstructed one) stopped accepting weight. This turned out to be a rather large impediment to walking, not to mention crouching in front of the dryer to see if maybe it would ignite.

So, after I got the kids to their afternoon activities, I hobbled around building a fire and then went to the kitchen for a glass of wine.

We are out of white wine.

Given the weather, I can't drink red or I might as well just sign up for the Migraine Express.

And I don't think I can drive to the store and buy some, given my foot issue.

Coop? Coop? I'm having a CRISIS!

Comments

CK Holder said…
So maybe I'm one of the three people who read your blog on Fridays. I can't seem to get enough. Sorry your day didn't go better, though. I'm sure the family from NY loved your house no matter how long they stayed to see it. It sounds like a great house and they'd be fools not to recognize that fact.

Have a good weekend and I'd have a glass of wine with you right now - I'd even run to the store or bring some over (except for that different states thing) - if I weren't about to clean my own house for guests. And it's an ABSOLUTE mess. Two hours and counting. (Yikes!)
Well, I'm not the one you piss off on Fridays. And I'm fine with Regular and Whiny - it's good to know that there are some things in life I can count on. And I loved your post. I did the same thing when we were selling our house, thinking people would love it as much as I did, etc. And then they wouldn't even call. Reminds me of waiting for a boy to "ask you out" in junior high, sort of. Well, maybe not.

Selling a house is hell. You are really better off (if you can afford it) to sell after you move. Much less stress that way.

And do not talk to me about Sears and their service visit schedule. Suffice it to say that it is a good thing I have several neighbors who don't mind my using their laundry facilities for 2 solid weeks. 3 loads a day.
hokgardner said…
I read your blog on Fridays!

And hasn't this weather been awful for migraines. I've gotten one every time the weather has changed from warm to cold and back again - which has meant a lot of migraines this week. It's like I'm a walking barometer.

And we should get together next week to compare notes about sucky weeks. You can tell me about your foot, and I can tell you about hubby's fractured vertebrae.
Lynn said…
So today I'm the *fourth* person, and let the record show that I too am unoffended. I hope that makes up, at least in part, for the fact that the rest of your day was so dismal. No white wine chez nous, but I think I can scrounge a clean mug, and I can nuke you some milk. Puts me to sleep, every time.

I hope that when you wake up in the morning, your foot will be *much* less tender, and that you and your tribe make some great memories before the sun goes down again.

I have to do the grand hunt for more checks this weekend. I used the last one to pay the rent earlier this month.
Ei said…
I read your blogs EVERY day. Sometimes I'm too ADHD to actually respond to them the same day. And you can count me amongst the "not offended."

Dude. Out of wine? Totally sucks. And I'm also a really bad task master.
Mrs.Q said…
So that's at least 6 of us for Fridays...if I told you I had to do a dance to Santa Claus is Coming to Town, as sung by an ABBA cover band, in front of 150 people, would that make you feel better?
Barbara said…
Yes, I think I read most days. certainly don't miss out Fridays especially as it's my day off.
Anyhow, you poor thing. I would pay the workmen before they finished too. Just the kind of thing I would do because I think we have become friends! Hah!
They say that moving is one of the most stressful things you can do. Took me about 8 years to recover and I'm never doing it again!
Peanut said…
I ALWAYS read your blog, Barb (thanks to Google Reader). Sorry to hear about your Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad day! When I sold my first house, my mother bought it, so there was less pressure. I love Miss Doxie, too, but your blog is just as a good in a warm, comforting way :)
nj8603 said…
I read you on Friday's as well as every other day.
Just for the record, my dad was a painter (and a good one!!) and his problem was getting people to pay him. I wish you guys could have gotten together.
Hahn at Home said…
You'll get through it, kiddo! Whine or wine.
Mokihana said…
Oh my goodness. We have sold two homes during the course of our marriage. Keeping the house spotless with small kids is a nightmare, and there's always that edge of tension: will THESE be the people who buy our house? or Why the heck DON'T they like our house?

You haven't pissed me off yet, and I read you every Friday.

Take a deep breath, head back to Starbuck's, and have something nurturing to body and soul.