Why is it that EVERY SINGLE TIME I move, I go down to the wire when it comes to finding a place to live?
Every. Single. Time.
When AFG and I moved to the DC area, we knew 5 weeks before we got here which house we would have. Our rental contract had been accepted and signed and all that good stuff. Little did I know that would be a world record for us.
I thought it was the dawn of a new age – the age of being able to afford to house-hunt ahead of time and secure the house we wanted before we were chased to our new place by boxes, and movers, and stinky hotel rooms.
When we moved to our previous base, the housing office didn’t bother to tell us if we’d have a place to live when we got there until the day we got there. Even though we put our names on the infamous list two months before arriving, and even though there was a house open when we put our names down, and even though it was open for TWO MONTHS! The lady in the housing office was draconian with her petty power and decided that list be damned – we were not to get that house in case someone else who was NOT on the list showed up before us and wanted it. I’m not sure what set her off, perhaps it was my hair. I’ve heard that some people are unreasonably irritated at the site of red hair.
I’ve said many a bad word in regards to that woman’s name, let me tell you. I like to stretch the rules, but I get very irate when people outright break them. It’s just rude.
Prior to that move, we arrived on base and as soon as our boots hit the ground started a three week house hunt.
It’s been an ongoing problem, one that has struck the Air Force Family household yet again. This time due to a bad property management company (it starts with a W and ends with "ert" and if you need more information, please let me know because I’ll be happy to point them out so you can steer clear) that decided in the middle of a 6 month TDY of AFG’s that we could not remain in the house without a lease (which we can’t sign because as everyone subject to a military schedule knows, after 1 year the gig is up and we could move at any time. Besides, we wanted to buy a house and not be locked into a year long lease at a rental) we are moving houses in the same community.
And by "we", I mean "me", of course. Remember, AFG is gone right now.
Let me rephrase a little, we’d LIKE to move within the same community. But despite the fact that people are having a bit of trouble unloading their homes, we’re having a tough time getting the people at the houses we bid on to play ball. We just made an offer on a house that’s been sitting on the market (as a foreclosure) since March. The bank countered with a price ABOVE the asking list price!
You have got to be kidding me! Yeah, that’s really not going to happen. It also explains a lot to me about the current financial crisis in the mortgage market.
So, with about 5 weeks to go until D-Day, AF Family is looking, once again, at a brief period of homelessness and stinky hotel rooms until this bidding stuff gets straightened out.
Did I mention foot stomping? I’ve been doing a lot of foot stomping. I might have to change my name to Rumpelstiltskin. Oh – and cursing. If you thought I was a potty mouth before, well, let’s just say that Wal Mart restrooms have NOTHING on me at the moment.
I’ve been on record before as admitting I kind of like the nomadic lifestyle. I love moving and seeing new things. I love getting to know new neighborhoods; the coffee shops, the stores, the out-of-the-way places you never get to see as a tourist there for a week in the summer.
But goodness gracious holy heavens, the house-hunting part gets on my nerves!