My husband and I are about to close this unfortunate chapter in our lives. At least the chapter about this house, hopefully fifth move in two years is a charm. We will see. Two days ago I was roaming my beloved Craigslist and came upon a listing for a house that sounded like a good fit for us. We contacted the owner, saw the house, and the next day it was ours. That’s how we roll. It turns out to be significantly bigger, and all around nicer, for about the same price. Blessing in disguise, perhaps.
We gave our thirty day notice, and I’m going to go out on a limb and say the kind (if kind=rotten to the core) gracious (like the witch offering Snow White a shiny red apple) responsible (Well, I think she feeds her dog) fill your belly with treats (only to give you heartburn) landlord did not fully see this coming. Even though they said if we’re not happy with this busted-up-from-the-floor-to-the-door-from-the-wall-to-the-hall ass house, we could give our thirty day notice anytime–I don’t believe they thought we would actually do it.
What everyone needs to realize, is my husband and I are two people not afraid to change our circumstances. Everyone has the power to do so, but not everyone acts on it. We’re not high maintenance people. All we want is basic household things like running water, working electrical items, no weird smells coming from inside the ceiling and walls, no plant life growing through the walls, and a little help with severe pest issues. This is the fifth move in 2 years, because we simply have no fear when it comes to moving on.
If you are truly unhappy, and downright miserable, get up, go outside, kick life’s ass and show it who the real bitch is. Oh I’ll sure as hell still rant my ass off about anything and everything, but that’s part of the process. Rant, rave, get angry, embrace your inner thug (*WARNING* do not actually go out and physically hurt anyone, this is a mental set up, understood!) and then use it to tell fear and doubt to go to hell. This is your life, screw fear. You do not under any circumstances have to be life’s bitch. Like I say in the blog sub heading, …what will really matter on my death bed. As morbid as that might sound it helps me to put things in perspective. What will really matter? When the end is near what will I really give a crap about. Any just-to-pay bills 9-5 I had–no. A late bill–no. That I had to pack and move more than any human would want to, searching for the right fit–no. People who have done me dirty–nope, not even that. Marrying the man that was perfect for me–yes. Having a beautiful, smart, and funny daughter, even though I’m not too keen about her father–yes. At least trying to do the things that bring me joy, no matter what anyone else thinks–yes.
What will really matter, is different for everyone. My list is a little longer but I’ll leave it at that for now.
Now off I go to bust out some cardboard and my precious tape gun!