Somebody Needs To Be Slapped...

abcface.jpg...I just haven't figured out who, yet. If I knew exactly who was to blame, I'd be warming up my back-handed bitch slap.

I'm no longer on the verge of freaking out. I'm in total freak out mode. I got a phone call yesterday evening from my realtor, letting me know the realtor representing our buyers was a little concerned about whether or not we could actually close on this house Wednesday. I took a breath and told myself not to freak out yet. It was just a concern, not a problem.

Today on my lunch break, it became a problem. It's never comforting to hear your realtor say over the phone, "I just don't know what to tell you. I don't know what you should do." Someone along the line of communication thought we could close Wednesday. But apparently, what the bank really said was Wednesday at the earliest, more likely FRIDAY. Late Friday.

The problem is - well, there are several problems. Where to begin? I have already arranged to have most of my utilities cut off Thursday, though thankfully I had not cut off the electricity yet. I had MOVERS scheduled to be at my house Thursday afternoon, ready to move us into the new one. Which as it now stands, we won't own by Thursday afternoon. Which makes moving in a bit of a problem. I have already taken off work for Thursday and Friday. I'm going to have to call the person selling us our new house and tell her there has been another delay. She is really going to lose it.

But most of all, I had mentally latched on to selling our house Wednesday and buying our new one Thursday. All week long I've been telling myself, "just three more days... just two more days..." And even though we have a closing scheduled, all the paperwork isn't in and no one can reassure me it will be in by Friday. I have lost all confidence in our realtor (this is just one of many miscommunications). I don't feel like packing anymore. I don't feel like dreaming of the colors we'll paint the walls anymore. I'm just stressed, and I'm not going to feel good until the deal is done. My only consolation is that vanilla vodka tastes good in a dixie cup of coke.

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An online journal chronicling the life of a wife, mom and new media consultant in Savannah, GA....More

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