Not this time

I'll spare you all the build-up: the house fell through.

We had the home inspection scheduled today and, though I didn't have the privilege of walking through the whole thing, David did. The news? Not so good.

Structure beam problems. Poorly supported back deck. Bathrooms leaking into the basement. Problems with the chimney. Punctured air ducts. Faulty circuit breaker. Disconnected vents. A microwave that isn't hooked up properly. An AC unit that won't work. Bats in the attic.

Okay, I admit the bats in the attic is kind of awesome. But nevertheless, it's too much faulty stuff. The seller was fixing all of this stuff himself, and we just can't trust him to fix this stuff correctly, even if we made it part of our condition of getting the house.

Conclusion: Not that house, boys and girls.



I'm okay with this. I really am. Well, what I mean to say is that I'm okay now. I was not okay earlier today. In fact, I was the complete opposite of okay. I was a sniveling, sobbing mess. I'm sick and tired of investing my feelings in a place, getting up hopes and dreams that this will be the place we raise our children in, the place where we'll have decades of Christmases and birthdays, only to have it yanked out from under me.

Yes, I'm okay. But it's still pretty lame, you guys.