I want to write, but my ability feels stifled by should and shouldn’t. So at some point you just have to say fuck it, and write to keep from bursting at the seams.
First, I may be going for a promotion at work. It’s the most basic of promotions: full-time. But, it’s a step up none-the-less. It isn’t even for sure the position will be open. And if it is, it will be offered company wide. I’ll have to apply and interview. But with my manager saying she’d wave the 1-year of employment recommendation before full-time is offered, I guess I have some chance. I suppose it boils down to who all applies. I’m a contender, but if someone is more or better qualified, well they’d be an asset to our team.
The whole house hunt thing isn’t going too well.
Where we left off, the house we (Jesse) are in contract with, failed the first inspection miserably. But the bank went “Oh Shit! We’ll fix it all!” and we’re like “OK, we can wait out repairs.” Well, on the list of failures, there were some Jesse could fix easily enough, but there were some he couldn’t and any one of those alone were deal breakers. Well the bank has declared themselves done and another inspection has been done. And it did not pass. One of the huge deal breakers wasn’t even touched. So the bank that is selling is being re-approached. And if they don’t take care of it like they said they would, deal is off.
The thing is, Jesse is going through a lot of shit now besides this and the stress of buying this house for us, is not helping. Especially since his physical health is involved. And he just does not right now have what it takes to start the process over. And he shouldn’t have to. It isn’t his job to put a roof over our heads. His offer was wonderful. But not at the cost of his health. While he is still fighting for this house, if it falls through…
We will have to move to plan C. Which is actually back to plan A. And that won’t involve Jesse.
What I am pissed off over, is that if the bank that is selling hadn’t told us every damn thing was going to be fixed, we would have spent all of April and May seeking another house. Or, an apartment. Or something. We were dumb, I guess. But they said they had everything covered. We were in contract. And we’re tired. Really really tired. So we assumed things being fixed, meant things were being fixed. There was even a list involved.
So I guess if this falls through, we’ll figure out a 3 bedroom apartment somewhere for a few years until Pat and I can use a tax return to plop down a down payment. And since it will be a home loan, and not an investment loan, that technically means more house for the down, or less down needed. So long run, this might be better. Once we figure out the meantime.
And we will figure out the meantime.
Or the bank will follow through on their word and we’ll get this house.
Something.
But we have basically until Sammy’s first birthday to figure it out. That’s around the time our lease is up.
Speaking of, it’s officially the 30th of May and my baby is now 9-months-old.
So much has changed in this past year. So much has become awesome. We’ve been on an upswing after a long, drawn out downswing. Hopefully our luck will hold and this next move will be amazing.
If nothing else, should I be made full-time at work, we’ll be able to put more towards rent.