Well, I am not sure how to say this without sounding overly dramatic or even pathetic - but we are moving on Monday, March 24 and when we get down to Florida we will be checking into the Red Roof Inn for God knows how long with our cat, Buddy in tow. We may be there for a couple of months. Homeless. Can you believe it?
The movers will move all
our earthly belongings into a rented storage unit in our new “Florida home town
without a home.” We are absolutely at the mercy of Fannie Mae, and
they could not care less. They refuse to let us rent until they
resolve the damn "deed-in-lieu of foreclosure" issue. They cannot give us any indication whatsoever about when the closing will be
except that "It could be this week, it could be 2 months from
now." Unless we want to cancel the offer the next time they ask for
an extension, we have no choice but to wait. We have no choice, no
control, just seething anger and dismay.
The feisty old dame in me wants to tell them to shove it (with great
force); however, cancelling the offer means we will have to start the house
hunting process all over again, which would also take a couple of
months. We really like the house and have painfully negotiated a
good deal. Call it denial,
desperation, bad decision, but we are not ready to cancel and are going to wait
it out at least for another month.
In Florida, in a motel room with T, cat Buddy, and me. I can hardly convey this information
without laughing hysterically.
I feel that instead of writing a blog, I should be writing a screenplay
about our life. Or a pilot for a
situation comedy. And the TV show
could easily be called The Aging Female Baby Boomer, because I am aging REALLY
fast these days.
indicated in an earlier post, this sloppiness and continued requests for
delayed closing is all too common with Fannie Mae foreclosures since the
housing crisis started a few years ago. It is, as my Mother would say, “A sin and a
tuned for the continuing adventures of T, C, and Buddy makes 3. We are determined to both
maintain our sanity and have a good time, assuming our marriage lasts. Buddy is going to be miserable. Bless his heart.