Um... Hello! Greetings! Contrary to popular belief, I have not actually succumbed to the runs. I'm alive, but have been resisting the urge to post any of my drafts, which have very melodramatic and self pitying titles, such as:
- WOE IS ME
- A DETAILED LITANY OF EXACTLY HOW MUCH OUR LIFE SUCKS RIGHT NOW
- SERIOUSLY, WOE IS ME
- HEY, MAN UPSTAIRS - ARE YOU KIDDING ME WITH THIS?
- WHAT A WORLD, WHAT A WORLD (I'M MELTING, I'M MELTING)
I thought I would spare you until I was able to get some perspective.
What's that? You want to know what's been going on with us? It's so nice that you asked, because I'm feeling in the mood for a rather large vent. (WARNING: EXCESSIVE AMOUNTS OF PERSONAL INFORMATION AHEAD, AVERT EYES IF SQUEAMISH.)
If you've been reading for a while, you might know that we had a business. A business we were pretty sure was going to do well. Oh. Hold on. Excuse me for a moment.
(bitter laughter) ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha (/bitter laughter)
Sorry, where was I? Oh - right, the business. It didn't work out (UNDERSTATEMENT) and we've been scrambling a bit (MASSIVE UNDERSTATEMENT) to get things back on track, with very little success (SPECTACULAR UNDERSTATEMENT) in spite of our best efforts.
The weekend before last, we went to Las Vegas to look for a house to rent. We're moving back there - leaving the little town we love and going back to the horrifying hell hole (UNDERSTATEMENT) we grew up in. My husband has a good job waiting for him there, I can keep my job and work from home in Vegas, and it just made sense in a whole bunch of very boring ways. We made the decision together and agree it's the best thing to do, but it still feels like a failure - leaving a place we love, a neighborhood we love, and returning to a place we both despise. Ugh.
Anyway, we spent the weekend looking at rental houses and eventually found one that did not make us want to impale ourselves on sharp sticks. The kids all got sick, making the trip home very suspenseful and interesting: Who would barf next? Would they barf into a bag, or share with their siblings? And how many times do you think you can you barf in a car before EVERYBODY gets sick? (Answer: Approximately four) Those were super fun car games. The trip home just flew by.
But the best part of the whole trip? Happened right after we got home.
We pulled into our driveway. My husband parked the car in the garage and went out front. I started helping the children out.
He came back and looked at me grimly. "The car's gone."
I looked at him blankly. "Gone? Somebody stole it?"
He gave me a wry smile. "No."
I didn't understand. "Then where is it?"
"I'm guessing probably at a repo yard somewhere."
They repossessed it.
Which also happened to be my birthday.
So, uh, we've been adjusting to life with one car while we negotiate with the bank to get it back. (Magic 8 Ball Says: Outlook Hazy, Ask Again Later)
We filled out some credit counseling stuff the other day in preparation for (HOLD ON, IT GETS BETTER....... WAIT FOR IT...........) our bankruptcy, and part of it involved entering your debts and expenses and income into an online calculator. After you enter all of the information, a little automated person tells you how much money you have left over after paying your bills each month. My husband and I sat there and cracked up for, oh, gosh, probably an hour, making the little robot voice repeat over and over again, "MRS. SMITH, AFTER PAYING YOUR BILLS YOU WILL HAVE NEGATIVE $9,050.00 THIS MONTH." He was just so chipper and happy to let us know about our negative cash flow. There was nothing to do but sit on the floor and laugh.
We're doing pretty well, in spite of it all. Husband and I are in this together, deeply, and we've managed to (mostly) avoid sniping at each other and fighting. And we have our sense of humor. And we have our kids. And nobody has cancer. Yet. (PLEASE DO NOT TAKE THAT AS AN INVITATION, LORD.) Things will be better in a few months when we're back on our feet.
The hardest part of all of this is dealing with the blow to my pride. I'm not worried about what my family thinks. I barely know most of my extended family (with a few notable bloggy exceptions) and don't really care about their opinions of me. And in my immediate family - well, bankruptcy and foreclosure - pretty small flashes in the pan quite frankly. To get a bad rep in my family you practically have to rob a bank or marry a cousin or something. Anything else is just another day at the office.
It's letting other people know that makes my stomach churn a little. Neighbors and friends. I'm going to be incredibly embarrassed about the Bank Owned sign swinging in front of our house after we leave. I don't want them thinking we're those people - people who I (JUDGMENTAL) picture relaxing on the couch and eating twinkies while watching the home shopping network and buying Marie Osmond dolls at 2:00 in the morning, until they max out their credit cards and declare their third bankruptcy.
We aren't people who get cars repossessed, or behind on their mortgage or late on their bills. We're resourceful and hard working and smart. We're responsible. We're successfullish. We're from hard working pioneer stock, gosh dang it.
But I guess most people who go through this kind of stuff aren't those people either. They're just - human. And so are we. Human and having a very crappy time of it. (This has been another episode of Very Obvious Life Lessons brought to you by Sue Smith, thank you so much for joining us.)
We'll be okay. We really will be fine, so don't feel sorry for us.
(Unless your particular form of feeling sorry for me involves bringing me baked goods or sending me chocolate. Or money. Yes, feel quite free to send me lots and lots and lots of money.)
(I'll just wait over here by the mailbox.)
I know it will all be o.k. I just never wanted to be a flippin' cautionary tale.
P.S. We got our car back. Whew.
Losing our house to foreclosure, saving our house from foreclosure