#FML

I never use the acronym FML or use the #FML hashtag on Twitter (it stands for Fuck My Life) because I have a pretty good life, even if things aren't going very well, but god damn this last month has been trying.

Our house went into escrow a month ago, finally, after six months of waiting, waiting, waiting on the bank to approve our short sale. My husband recently got a new job far from home, so we think maybe we'll move close to my job so that only one of us has to commute. We spend a couple weekends searching for a place close to my job. Places are small and pricey but we're willing to make that sacrifice. In the end, though, we don't want to pay $1000 more a month for child care and it's making me sick to my stomach to think about finding a new place for my kids when they are in an awesome place right now.

We go back to our original plan of moving just a little closer to our jobs and very close to the kids' daycare. My sister goes with me to look at places in the evenings after I pick up the kids. We find a cute little house with a solar-heated pool and the owner is willing to put in a pool fence. Then he is so freaking slow in getting back to me and so uptight about our credit that I say forget it and sign a lease on a slightly larger house without a pool that isn't quite as nice but is in a nicer neighborhood and has a much more easy-going landlord. A little too easy-going I find out later.

In order to move into that place, we have to rent-back for a couple weeks from the people who are buying our house. I am already in contact with the buyer because she wants to buy some of my furniture, so I call her to ask about the rent-back. She says it is no problem because they are trying to sell their house and there is no way it will sell by then anyway, so I sign the lease on the rental. Preparations commence at my house at a somewhat leisurely pace due to the ENTIRE MONTH I have until I have to move. My sister isn't working so she offers to pack for us (at a reduced rate) so that I don't have to hire pricey packers.

Five days before escrow is set to close, the buyers schedule their final walk-through. My sister's going to be there for it since I will be at work, so I leave a note for the buyers with a suggested rent-back price and a list of the rest of the items I have for sale in case they are interested. My sister calls me when I am on my way home from work, shortly after the buyers leave, to tell me that the woman said that she didn't think I needed to rent back since I hadn't called her back (because why would I since she had already agreed to it) and that they rented out their house and are planning to move right after escrow closes on Friday the 12th. So, I freak the fuck out. Instead of two and a half weeks to finish packing and move into our new house, we have four days to finish packing and move our stuff into storage and live with my parents for two weeks and then move our stuff out of storage and into our new house.

I call my new landlord to see if there is anything he can do to help because I know that the move-out date of the current tenant is flexible since it depends on her escrow because she is buying a new house. He calls her and she says she will be out by the 15th at the latest. He can get the place ready in a few days and we can move in on the 19th at the latest. So, I cancel my Valentine's Day trip to NYC with my husband (who has to go on business) and I get the buyers to agree to give us a week in exchange for money and us emptying the garage so that they can at least move stuff into there. I cut the price in half on the kitchen table set and the couch and loveseat set I am selling so that I can get them out of the way. They sell within hours on Craigslist. My mom takes off Thursday the 11th from work and she and my stepdad empty out my garage, into my living room and my backyard. That night the buyer calls and asks if she can come by on Saturday to put some things into the garage and have a contractor measure for new carpet. I get a little testy with her on the phone because my parents spent all day getting that garage ready for her due to her insistence that they have to be out of their current house on Friday.

I take Friday the 12th off of work, as does my mom, and I help her and my sister pack, and I spend HOURS on the phone changing all of my utilities and hiring the movers. We spend all day Saturday packing. My sister takes Valentine's Day off from packing to spend with her husband but my mom still comes over for half a day. The house is in great shape. We only leave out essentials that we need for the week. My husband comes home from NYC. (He still had to spend the whole weekend there as we had planned when I was going to go because he couldn't get an earlier flight back due to the freaking blizzard which had canceled tons of flights earlier in the week.)

Monday the 15th, I go shopping with my mom for a refrigerator for the rental. I find one I like but I want to make sure it will fit, so I text the landlord to see about coming by that day to measure, since I know the tenant is supposed to be out. He texts back, "Let me see if she will be there," which I find quite alarming, so I text back to see if we are still on track for moving on the 19th. The answer is, of course, no. Her escrow was delayed so she won't be moving out until the 21st. What follows is a barrage of text messagess full of barely restrained anger and panic on my side, and remorse and helpfulness on his side.

He says she will be out on the 21st, even if he has to tell her to move into a hotel, and we can move in on the 24th. (That is still two days before the move-in date specified on the lease, so I am grateful to him for helping out, but holy motherfucking shit with the whole fucking debacle already.)

As I am thinking about how I am going to approach this with the buyer, she calls me to see if they can come by that night to put more stuff in the garage. (The plan was to let them come and go as needed since they have the garage door opener now, but something went wrong with it and it only opens the door. It won't close the door. Of course.) I bring up the new twist in the entire fucking ordeal and she is understandably upset. She says she has to talk to her husband.

When they come over, she tells me that we can stay until the 24th. I write her another check. I let my landlord know. He says he will measure the refrigerator space today. I plan to spend my lunch hour for the next two days rescheduling the movers and calling all of the utility companies back and changing the date on everything.

If something else happens to fuck with this move, I am seriously going to lose my shit.

(Also, somewhere in there, I took the mid-term for my Managerical Economics class and got a C on it, bringing my grade in the class down to 81%. The instructor ended up throwing out so many questions on the mid-term that it raised my grade to a B, but the next week, I completely forgot to do my assignments on time, so I got half credit on one, and no credit on two. Then, I had two more group assigments to do but, fortunately, I got the best group in the history of class groups. We worked very well together and all did our parts. We are also evenly-matched in intelligence and ability. I have to step up my studying because my company will only reimburse me fully for the class if I get an A or B. I have never earned a C in a college class and I don't plan to start now.)