Someone moved my cheese, and I have a long list of the assholes that I found eating on it!

Thanks to all three of you who have been checking back at this site only to find out that I haven’t posted. Here’s the scoop, and after reading it, you probably won’t blame me.

Most of the month of January was probably the hardest time of my life so far. This relocation has been much more difficult than I anticipated. 75% of my anxiety has been the result of our trying to sell our house in Atlanta.

I believe my last post was a month ago, so here’s what happened in between.

We were very optimistic at the first of the year. Lots of traffic during the holidays, and everything was bound to pick up right away. At least that’ what the realtor kept telling us (At this point it’s important for me to clarify two things: (1) We had an offer—not good, but an offer none-the-less—from my company if we didn’t sell our house after marketing it for 90 days and (2) if we took that offer, our realtor didn’t get a penny). So, the realtor is trying his best to keep our spirits up and his too. Mrs. MoN and I were certain that something would happen within three weeks.

Week 2: nothing yet. One couple keeps looking at it, but will not make a move. Still, we are getting lots of traffic. The company is putting pressure on me to lower my price—they really do not want to have to buy my house, and I don’t want them too. I try to hold out one more week.

Week 3: Bastard neighbors put their house on the market for $7,000 less than us. This is after they had already scoped out house at the open house. Next day: we lower our price by $5,000. This just screams weakness. Couple from above comes back again and brings parents. By Saturday, they made an offer. It was horrible. If there’s such a thing as rape in the real estate world, that’s what we got. We countered back.

Author’s Note: I’m really not just pissed about the neighbors putting their house on the market when mine was already there. They truly are bastard neighbors. Two summers ago when theft was flourishing in our neighborhood, I personally went to their front door to invite them to a neighborhood meeting at my house to discuss solutions such as neighborhood watch, etc. They laughed in my face and said that they generally weren’t interested in little things like that. From that point I wanted to steal their shit myself!

The counter-offering would go on for days. We finally got a fairly good deal, and more importantly, they gave up first. Our close date is February 27, but the company will take control before that, so we are finished once the movers take our stuff away.

I know what you’re thinking, that’s not enough to be considered the worst month of your life. And your right. NOW. . . factor in all of the following with the above:

WORK: The year end close out could not have gone worse. My staff accountant quit right before it started. We missed our big deadline by two whole days and a lot of people were pissed at our results. Not my fault mind you, but stressful to say the least. By this time I’m eating Tums and not much else. I was sinking at work. I was literally getting hours of requests per day in addition to the work that my short-handed staff was supposed to be doing. I logged over 500 emails that week.

LIVING: The second largest convention of the year came to town that week, and as a result, any hotel rooms to be found (not many) were $800 per night. To avoid this, I had to move hotels 4 times in one week. That’s hard to do when you’re dragging your whole life around in Rubbermaid containers.

BACK HOME IN ATLANTA: It seems that my stroke of bad luck has rubbed off on Mrs. MoN. Everything she does goes wrong. She doesn’t complain much to me because she knows that I’m just a few catastrophes away from an extended stay in the crazy house. But, I know that she’s struggling. While I’m battling my troubles out here, she’s working a full-time job, being a single parent to our daughter and keeping a house spotlessly clean to be shown by real estate agents at any moment.

In addition, Baby MoN learned to crawl. Imagine my guilt not being there. Enough said.

OUR NEW HOME HERE: Keep in mind that something was not going to work had we not sold our home in Atlanta. Our plan is for Mrs. MoN to stay at home once out here. We were going to have to choose between renting and this had the house not sold. We never really talked about it because I don’t think either one of us could bear the thought. So, I was talking to the builder here as if we had plenty of money and everything was right on plan, while all the time I knew that I might be about to lose the $2,000 earnest money I had put down, plus be back at square one.

MY HEALTH: I certainly didn’t count on this. The stress, poor nutrition and frequent travel on planes has taken its toll on me. I have been sick a lot. I missed two days of work two days ago because I had a fever of 102. I thought I might even have the flu. To add insult to my situation, my insurance would not cover me since I was out of state and we will not change it over until we have a house here. Their response to my 102 fever: “We only cover emergencies out of state, and BCBS of Georgia HMO does not consider a cold or even the flu to be an emergency.”

And so, that’s what was going on while I didn’t post. I kinda became a hermit all around. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, because it just made me even more depressed. I ate lunch most days and that was it. I was working 14-16 hours per day, and crashing in the bed when it was over.

BUT. . . . . . .Everything is looking up now. The house is under contract, the movers have been scheduled. We are ready and waiting for the new condo to be ready (yes condo, if you look at real estate, you understand why they say Nevada is the new California). Work is getting under control, slowly but surely. Our next month-end close begins Friday. I didn’t even get sick when I made another return trip to Atlanta this past weekend.

More to come, I promise. Here’s a teaser: My mom called tonight and told me the latest community gossip concerning a cemetery plot, a headstone and a divorced son-in-law who’s trying to guarantee his resting spot for eternity!