Don't Cry For Me, Argentina

The truth is, I never left you. I’ve just been eating a lot of takeout, because my cookbooks are all packed and I threw my kitchen table away.

See, here are the things:

  • Selling a piece of real estate is the Worst Thing Ever In The Entire World. And I say that as someone who has lost both parents, had cancer and suffered from completely debilitating Major Depression that won me a week’s vacation in the psych ward. I would not wish the process of selling real estate on my worst enemy. I now understand why Donald Trump is such a fucked-up individual. You can’t spend that much time engaged in real estate transactions and come out unscathed.
  • People are really, incredibly stupid.
  • Especially lawyers.*
  • In particular, real estate attorneys. They make me want to shake a baby. I know that’s bad, but if the baby dies, that’s one less person who might grow up to be a real estate attorney. I should probably shake the lawyer instead, but it’s easier to catch a baby than a lawyer. Lawyers are slippery.
  • But not mine, thank god.

The end result of this: a stratospheric level of stress, which has caused all my words to dry up like a slug in a salt mine. My back, neck and shoulders are so tense that my head is about to pop off like an overripe cherry tomato and roll down the street, where the neighborhood feral cats will bat it around, pigeons will pick at my lifeless eyeballs and seagulls will shit on my neck stump. It will be very Greek, and very tragic.

By this time next week, I will either be (1) happily unpacking in my sweet-ass new loft; (2) dead; or (3) being held without bail for first-degree attorneycide.

To put it more tersely: Please send good juju.

*Yes, I am aware that I went to law school. But I was never admitted to the bar and have never practiced, so I’m exempt. My bar exam results have now expired, so I couldn’t be a lawyer even if I wanted to be. Which I don’t.

15 thoughts on “Don't Cry For Me, Argentina

  1. You have made it this far – just a few more days and you will be at a wonderful goal – stress of moving in. You can talk to use about your stress, even if there are no recipes. In the absence of some de-stressing legal drugs, i recommend staying in a hot shower as long as possible, with the hot water pulse concentrated on your neck, shoulders and back. Possibly several times a day.
    If you want or need to scream ARRGGGHHH at someone, we are here for you.

  2. I understand how you feel. I remember buying my place and the morons who sold my place (keeping in mind I bought this condo directly from the corporation that built the place) sat on the deal forever. Their lawyer was an idiot and a crook, and two years later her ran for local office and won. Sometimes I’m ashamed to live in this town.

  3. As someone who deals with real estate attorneys and title insurance companies on a daily basis. I do title searches and many of the people I deal with (including the attorneys) have never done a title search. Ever. They can’t understand why it takes anywhere from 2 days to 2 weeks to do a search; they think it can be done in 2 hours. After 5 pm. On a weekend. It’s probably a good thing I only deal with them over the phone or by email. I’d hate prison.

  4. You should try combining point 1 and point 3 like I did and try to sell real estate to a lawyer. Not recommended. I hope your experience is over soon.

  5. @bev, i may just stay in the shower until this is all over. the moving is the easy and fun part. it’s everything else that’s awful.

    @rachel, yargh! buying was such a cakewalk compared to this. oh, the halcyon days of 2006.

    @tine, you have to deal with them EVERY DAY? i guess you do a lot of hard drugs.

    @sandwich, seriously. i mean, i remember the cancer and the surgery and the chemo, and i’m pretty sure i was NEVER as stressed as i am right now.

    @becka, horror of horrors! and yet, you’re still alive. amazing.

  6. Realtors and other scum were in our business and up our asses 24/7 until the deal closed, and they disappeared like roaches at midnight when you stumble in and snap the lights on. The brass key to the new place in your hand causes amnesia like Versed at a colonoscopy.

  7. Wow, you’ve just given me yet another reason to love renting; no lawyers. My man and I almost bought a house but decided not to at the last minute and found our amazing two story (the upper floor being a loft) apartment. I think I’d rather have kidney stones again than deal with that shit.

  8. It’s amazing with all the legal wrangling in so many of our affairs that anything gets done in this country. I like Gnarlex’s cockroach analogy. Hang in there. The lights will come on soon and the vermin will scurry out of your life.

  9. @gnarlex, you have the best username, ever. i actually would welcome them being all up in my business, it’s the disappearing that’s making me insane. disappear AFTER i get then money.

    @miserichik, i cannot wait to officially be just a renter again.

    @gene, seriously. i wish i could just sit down with the buyers and hash everything out, but there’s a wall of attorney four feet thick between us. argh.

  10. I will roll drunks for change to pay the mortgage before even considering attempting to sell. Let my kids deal with that once I’m very very dead, but no way will I take that on!
    You have my sympathy, and the fact that you didn’t go through with joining the ranks of blood-sucking attornys created your own special good karma!

  11. feeling a bit overwhelmed myself, i’m about to have the house i’m renting sold out from under me. blah. hope your stress gets better soon.

  12. @michelle, no it’s one of those family things, plus i’m separating from their baby boy so you know, fun fun. it’s all good though, it can always be worse.

  13. Pingback: True Confessions: Bloggers’ Writing Quirks | The Daily Post

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