and thirty two steps back.
We closed on the house today.
We now have two houses, two mortgages, and the desire to run screaming as it all falls down around us. This house has been on the market for three weeks, and had nary a bite of interest. Nothing. Except for those couple of drive-by, slow-down, turn-around-to-look-agains. No calls.
But it’ll be okay. I’m sure it will.
Won’t it?
Technorati Tags: mortgage
I did a little reading this morning about Restless Legs Syndrome because last night while I was trying to fall asleep I felt as if my legs wanted to detach from my body and take a nice 30-mile run.
I’m going to guess based on what I read that my twitching parts had more to do with the fact that I spent a lot of time sitting in a chair writing yesterday, than with any neurological disorder. But dang, once I finally fell asleep I had a dream that I was running to catch a train, but had to keep running back to my hotel room because I kept noticing that I had on other people’s clothes and needed to return them and find my own. When I finally reached the train platform, everybody else was naked from the waist down. I wondered if their pants were in my suitcase.
That was a whole lot of regular people’s genitals to look at, and let me tell you, the people in skin mags? They can’t be real.
Also, it was so humid that my ears filled up with condensation that was too deep to remove with a Q-Tip, so I felt like I was underwater all night.
In case the thought of regular people’s genitals wasn’t nauseating enough.
Technorati Tags: dream
But not really. I’m busy in a distracted, unfocused, not accomplishing a whole hell of a lot kind of way. Spent the week humping a giant rototiller around my in-laws’ back yard, cutting out 6 beds that are 40′ wide and 5′ deep, with a nice 3′ walking path between each. It feels sort of futile because the backyard doesn’t get a whole lot of sunlight, definitely not six hours worth, so we’ll need to clear out a bunch of the trees in the woods on the south side to try to open up the canopy.
Once the rain stops I can get over and clear out all of the sod chunks, tree roots, bricks, giant chunks of rusty metal, and other detritus that keeps spewing forth from the bowels of the property. So far I planted Royal Burgundy Bush Beans, Bright Lights Chard, Detroit Dark Red Beets, and Alaska Nasturtiums.
We close on the house on Monday, after which I will begin throwing stuff in boxes with abandon. In the meantime, I’m trying to write some stuff for some things, but it’s all turning out like crap.
One thing that turned out beautifully is my niece, who turns two today. Happy Birthday Violet! We love you scrumptious girl!
Also: it’s hot. That sticky-hot-buns-stuck-together-in-a-not-so-pleasing-way hot. And steamy. 90% humidity. Dewpoint 73. Gah.
Now it’s time to go make dinner which will consist of ice water and cold pudding.
"In summer we live out of doors, and have only impulses and feelings, which are all for action, and must wait commonly for the stillness and longer nights of autumn and winter before any thought will subside; we are sensible that behind the rustling leaves, and the stacks of grain, and the bare clusters of the grape, there is the field of a wholly new life, which no man has lived; that even this earth was made for more mysterious and nobler inhabitants than men and women. In the hues of October sunsets, we see the portals to other mansions than those which we occupy."
~Henry David Thoreau
Stories We Need to Know: Reading Your Life Path in Literature by my dear friend Allan Hunter who happens to also be married to my dear, dear, dear friend Cathy Bennett. This one is next on my list!
