A Moving Experience...(an ongoing series) — Part 6

Who am I kiddin,’ anyway?
I didn't want this thing to become a diary, but guess what? I probably need it to be one more than anything else right now. The fact is, I don't need to tell a story so much as get the frustration I'm feeling off my chest. How it's delivered really isn't that important.

Directly prior to Tuesday morning when we learned the couple who had placed an accepted offer on our house had suddenly backed out, I had been completely re-writing this series into a more complete story with a formulated beginning, which would have followed the process all the way through; from the day we stumbled upon an opportunity that we decided was too good to pass up, to the day sometime in mid-December, when I carry Michelle over the threshold of our dream home.

However, as of this moment, as one of our Realtor gals put it, “We’ve hit a bump in the road.”

Spoiled by success
Obviously I'm pretty frustrated and a little bit discouraged at this point in the game, but all that could turn on a dime after some more people see the house this weekend. We had a showing already this morning, and the Realty gals have scheduled an open house for tomorrow afternoon.

So while frustration still lingers, there's always hope around the corner. And therein lies the problem with this roller coaster of emotions that Michelle and I have been riding these past several weeks.

Anyone who knows me knows that I'm a pretty even-tempered person. I have no illusions of grandeur; I have no assumptions of entitlement or that I necessarily deserve anything in life I didn't actually earn. I'm a Magna Cum Laude from the School of Hard Knocks; I know that you get what you pay for, both literally and figuratively. There is no free lunch.

Nonetheless, My life has been blessed. I've had the opportunity to enjoy some successes that many others have not, despite also suffering sorrows that many will never have to endure.

But sometimes, juuust sometimes, you get lazy; you get lulled into thinking that the things really should go your way. Then your luck changes and you immediately wonder why.

This is one of those times.

It all was happening so fast. We were on a hot streak; our lives were a golden blur. But now, given this past week's inactivity, it seems like an eternity has elapsed since we've had any good news.

Render me guilty for feeling cheated that things didn't continue to go as perfectly as they started — and I do mean perfectly.

Our house was on the market a mere six days before we received the offer. Six days and we thought it was sold. Six days — that's 54 days less than the average number of days for homes in this area to be on the market.

Naturally we were ecstatic. It was a perfect scenario for us. We immediately went out and put money down on an apartment where we would live while our new home was being built. It was a one-bedroom, but hey, we could deal with being cramped for awhile in order to realize our dream, right?

The apartment complex is the same one we lived in during our first two and a half years here in Tennessee, so in a sense it was like going home. We like the place, and again, he location is prime, just about three miles from our current house, centrally located to both of our workplaces, shopping, etc.

We were all set. We were preparing to move in on July 20th. Michelle leaves to attend her annual Longaberger Basket convention on July 26th. The timing couldn't have been any better.

What's more, the apartment manager who was so helpful in getting us set up to get into this apartment, also did us another favor, whether willingly or by oversight.

The standard practice for most apartment complexes it seems is to require a minimum one-year lease for new renters. However we, being short-timers, didn't want that. Anything beyond a six-month binder would have been a deal-breaker for us. There's no way we wanted to still be paying rent on the apartment beyond December, when our new house will be ready to move into. I mean, that'd be silly, right?

Well, given the timing of things with our would-be buyer, we were counting our lucky stars that we'd only have to eat the month of January in such a scenario — and that we could live with; but when the apartment paperwork was all drawn up, we discovered that we wouldn't have to.

Instead of specifying a six-month lease, which would expire January 20, 2008, the contract said December 20th, 2007. Either the manager miscalculated, or she deliberately fudged the lease in order to help us out.

However all that may be dust in the wind right now. If we don't have another buyer in place by July 27th, which is the last day we'd be allowed to move into the apartment under our current agreement, we'll have to cancel the lease, forfeit the apartment, and hope like hell we can recover the $380 deposit we forked over a little more than a week ago.

I realize that all is not lost. Things could turn around as quickly as they went south. I guess I'm just taking a little time now to mourn over what could have been.

Right about now I'm equal parts heated and defeated, so I'm not really inclined to talk about the old fart who oh-so-blithely turned our world upside down. I'll have plenty to opine about that guy, I assure you, but that will be later, as will the other new and updated parts of this series sharing the details of how this tumultuous chapter in our lives got started. I've actually got to go back and re-write some of it now that this sudden diversion in the story has taken place.

So I in all reality, I have no idea what comes next; but I suppose that's what diaries are all about.

My spirit may be a little nicked up, but I'm not on the DL just yet. Consider me day-to-day.