Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers were right - the waiting is the hardest part. For the past couple of weeks, we've been attempting to lease a house starting in January. It hasn't been easy. First of all, our budget is pretty much nil. Second, our credit is pretty much nil. Third, well, it's just hard finding place (however temporary) that feels comfy, safe and conveniently located for our one-car family.
By some miracle, I found a house that pretty much fits the bill and our kind potential landlord seems open to overlooking our awful credit assuming a parent cosigns. Yes, a parent will cosign our lease just like back when we were in college. Fun! So, now with a much edited by said parent lease in hand and a request for said parent to do a walk-through of the house prior to signing, we might actually have found our next dwelling. This is especially nice since our current house could be on the auction block as soon as mid-January. (Come bid - you're guaranteed a sweet deal on a custom, modern, riverfront home! Oh, I should also mention that it leaks like a civ, needs some serious electrical repair and a new roof and that it could be pretty messy when we leave it.)
At this very moment, I'm writing to keep my mind off the fact that the landlord hasn't responded to the many edits I 'suggested' be made to her lease. They're pretty important, actually, but I'm not sure she'll agree. If we can get through this and the walk-through, we'll be on our way out of the house that has caused us much sorrow.
I've always had this mantra of living my life without regrets and that all of the mistakes I've made helped make all of the good things happen blah, blah, blah, but I gotta tell ya, making an emotional decision to buy this house three plus years ago ignited a firestorm of negative repercussions. To look at where we were financially then versus now is like comparing night and day. And it all could have been avoided! So, I will bite my tongue and won't say I regret it, but I am mad at myself. Furious even. And more than a little bit heartbroken. Oh, and despite pouring it all out here, I'm deeply embarrassed. Sure, lots of good things (namely the little noodle) have come along in the past few years but starting over from zero sucks. And that we did this with a child just makes me feel crummy.
Okay, I'm done feeling sorry for myself. Back to reality.