Life is so strange; sometimes I can hardly believe it. If I can be thankful for anything in this Comedy of Errors called “Retiring to Florida” it is a chance to perform in this Theatre of the Absurd called “Buying a House in Florida circa 2014.” Quite the story, and I have been cast in a truly great dramatic role. "All right, Mr. DeMille, I'm ready for my close-up."
Our current housing opportunity is fraught with waiting. The listing agent (representing the seller, who is the Veterans Administration) is a turd…seriously. I yearn to ask him why he never returns our realtor’s calls. Is it because he is, in fact, a turd? Or is it a brilliant realtor tactic to break us down by making us wait and wait for his response and thereby force us to become desperate enough to accept any counter offer he makes? I really want to know, because if it is a tactic at least I can then understand his lack of responsiveness. I might eventually be able to respect his ruthlessness. Real estate is a game one plays to win, after all. My fear is that he is just lazy and uncaring. And that is so boring.
Last Sunday our realtor called to tell us that the listing agent from the original house we came down here to buy (the one that Fannie Mae never really owned….) would be going back on the market because they now have title to the house, and they wondered if we were still interested in making an offer. An offer? Really? For crying out loud, we had a contract; a contract they kept extending and then unilaterally cancelled over a month after we first expected to close. And they cancelled it three days before we moved down here, long after we sold our house up North. How do I detest thee? Let me count the ways.
OK, I am now pulling myself together (slight pause while she pulls herself together). Now that I have publicly ranted and indulged my anger and frustration I need to consider: Do I want to become a hateful and bitter victim? No, I do not. If I change into a hateful and bitter person because of the acts of another, then the bad guys win and I lose. Been there, didn't do that. Not gonna happen now either. I refuse to be unhappy because a few other people are either dimwits or have sold their souls to the devil. And I think that is the crux of the matter. Putting aside homelessness, boredom, anxiety, and anticipation, I just bottom line refuse to be unhappy. This long, frustrating process has taught me that I am not in control of anything except my reactions. Our goal is that we will find a great house to spend our retirement in. And we will.