The House Situation

It’s so crazy, I can’t even talk about it. It’s an emotional rollercoaster. I don’t know what’s going to happen. Everything changes completely from one hour to the next. My bid’s in. No, it’s not. I have to prequalify. I did. No, I didn’t. Yes, I did, but only if I want to eat half a Cup O’Soup for lunch instead of a whole one. No. Okay, then yes, but only if I bring the bank three cows and one flock of chickens. Okay. I’m ready. Oh, no! Someone else got the house! Oh, no they didn’t. Wait, there’s a better house! Hurry, hurry! Oh, someone else got it! Oh, and now someone has the other house, too! Oh, wait, no they don’t… Hey – my credit report suddenly says that I live in a crack house and owe fifty-seven thousand dollars to Fingerhut for a gun rack and a set of dishes with ducks and geese on them! It didn’t say that yesterday! Plus, I finished paying for those dishes six years ago! Now the bank wants a blood sample and a reference letter from each of my elementary school teachers. Oh, shoot – every single house in the whole world just got bought by somebody else…

I have to prepare for any eventuality, and I also have to move out of my apartment within the next two weeks. Y’all know I’m crazy superstitious about talking about things that haven’t happened yet – in fact, I probably said too much last time I talked about it – so I won’t say anything more until after I close on some house, somewhere. Assuming, God willing, that I do.

Buying houses is just like getting book deals, I’ve noticed. There’s no use talking about it until all the paperwork is signed, because, otherwise, you’re living in a kaleidoscope of shifting scenarios. You have to hope hard, but keep your hopes silent, just in case. Don’t talk. Just hope and work. I’m sure a lot of y’all already know all about it. Buying a house is like having a baby, too. You’ve either lived through it or you haven’t. You either know, or you don’t.

The Chili Dog Situation

I wrote y’all a long, long comment about the chili dogs, but Blogger ate it. Now I have to type it again. But I did eat two chili dogs the other day, so don’t worry.

Vicarious Trauma

My kids’ puppies – the puppies they keep at their father’s house – have worms. They know because they saw the worms for themselves.

Remember when we were kids, and we were always seeing gross, incredible things of nature, like walking sticks and ant lions, rabid squirrels and worms coming out of puppies’ butts? Yeah, those were the days.

I asked the kids which was scarier: the worms, or The Omen, which their dad took them to see the other day. They said the worms. Even though I’m too scared to go see The Omen, I bet I’d agree.

Back to the House Thing

It’s weird that my kids are with their dad for most of the summer, and that they’ll be back in about 6 weeks, and, before they do come back, I will presumably have bought and moved our stuff into a house. (Not counting me moving out of my place within the next two weeks and living with one of my cousins until closing. How in the hell is that supposed to happen?!? Hush… breathe. Breathe.)

I have to admit that I’m pretty stressed. Or, at least, I’m trying to be.

See, I’m the kind of person who likes to stay stoic under stress and work my ass off until the stressful thing has disappeared. Then, after everything is completely safe and good, I like to have a big freak-out attack over absolutely nothing, in order to release all the stressed-out-ness I’d been saving up all along.

What? It’s fun!

But it’s stressful for people around me, too, so I’m trying to stop being like that. See, way down inside, I’ve been secretly very, very stressed ever since I found out in April that my oldest son didn’t get accepted by any of the nice schools we applied for, and that he’d have to go to the same not-nice high school that I went to, myself. (It hasn’t improved in the last twenty years.) But, you know… that’s what happens when kids don’t do their best, I figured. They have to go to crappy schools, maybe. I didn’t want to go through with it, but maybe it was tough love time, right?

Then, when I found out that my straight-A middle son, who had no reason in the world not to be accepted by the same good middle school his older brother went to, was put on its waiting list at number 245… Well, then I was secretly, incredibly stressed out indeed. Because his alternative was to go to the worst middle school in the world, where the students are required to choose one of two disciplines: crack addiction or crack dealing, and then to minor in being drive-by victims. (I didn’t go to that school, but my brothers did.)

Did I explain all that already? Not sure I did. So, anyway, what was my reaction? On the outside, I was all like, “Hey, you guys. Let’s go buy new purses and eat chili dogs!”

But on the inside, I was working like that big old punch-card computer they made back in the day – the one that filled the whole room and calculated day and night. I thought and thought and contrived and contrived, and now here I am, trying to hurry up and finish the process I’ve started, which is getting the hell out of dodge and buying my first house ever, in a good school district, before the summer’s end.

Then, the other night, I had a minor setback, and then the whole situation hit me like a tons of bricks, and I had a giant freak-out attack. Afterwards I felt better, but I’m sure my boyfriend was left a little traumatized. He’s not into the whole flaming drama thing like I am. No, he’s very calm and easygoing. That’s why he’s my boyfriend, I guess. But the drama attacks get to him, like worms from a puppy’s butt. (HA!)

I know the stress isn’t going to let up until the whole thing’s said and done, so, in the meantime, I’m trying to manage my stress in a healthy way.

Only problem is, I’m not sure how people go about doing that. Hmm.

(Would you laugh if I told you that, under it all, I still consider myself an optimist? I know this will work out just fine, in the end.)

Thanks for listening.

I love y’all. Thank you very much for all the good wishes you’ve sent. I hope all you guys are doing well.

I’ll write more soon, when something important (like a chili dog discovery) occurs.

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Posted in Uncategorized on 06/15/2006 07:14 pm

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