Our house is sold...again

Done. Done. Done.

It's a done deal.

After sending over an electrician on their dime, they are ready to sign on the dotted line.

To say that I am relieved would be quite an understatement.

This weekend I will finish painting at the new house and Monday the movers come to do their thang. By Monday evening we will be permanent residents in what I am convinced is an alternate universe.

I got so used to living on this loud, busy street with a revolving door of neighbors that I guess I just got used to the chaos. I "forgot" that it's not normal to have to call the cops on the people across the street because they think it's a good idea to have an obnoxiously loud party on a Wednesday night. I got used to averting my eyes from the scary thugs standing in line in front of me at the corner store. I didn't blink an eye when my power and gas bills edged closer and closer to my mortgage payment every month.

At the new house, when I turn on the air, it actually gets cool in the house in less than an hour. When I sit in the backyard, I can hear birds chirping. People wave and say hello when they see you outside. There aren't empty Colt 45 bottles and cigarette butts in my front yard every morning. The garbage men don't fling the garbage cans in the street after they dump them.


Today I took the neighbor girl at the new house up on her offer to babysit. I had some painting to work on (will it ever end?). I figured she could get to know the girls with me there and it would make it easier when she came over for an "official" babysitting gig.

I had nothing to worry about. As soon as she walked in the door, the girls whisked her away to the playroom in the basement and kicked me out every time I tried to go down there to check on them. I'm pretty sure they like her better than me at this point.

I mentioned that I was a hairstylist and her adorable little 15 year old eyes lit up. When I told her that I could do updos, she got giddy. Methinks I'll be trading some highlights and prom do's for some babysitting. Sweet.

I wish the new owners of this house well even though I feel like they kickfucked us there at the end. As I type this, some fucktard in a $500 car with a $2000 stereo is thumping his bass down the block, and all I can do is laugh.

It is so not my problem anymore.