You Don't Live in Your House Yet? & Answers to Other Frequently Asked Questions

Sunday, August 15, 2010

You don't live in your house yet?
No, I do not, in fact, live in the house yet.  No, nay, nope, nuh-uh.  Negatory, good buddy.  And even if you repeat the question in a different tone, the answer will still be the same.  Ditto if you add eyebrow raises and slack-jawed disbelief.

Why not?
Because I bought the house under the auspices that everything was hunky-dory when it was, in fact, not hunky-dory.  Just two weeks after signing my life away, my beloved Kudzu took ill.  And that lasted for four months before he passed away.  When he was sick, we couldn't move him.  After he died, we couldn't move me.

Wait.  You're saying you didn't move because of a cat?
Yes, yes, I am.  And if you so much as breathe the merest suggestion that this reason is not sufficient or reasonable or sane, we are no longer friends.

When did you buy the house?
 In February, the 26th of said month to be exact.  Before the whole world fell to pieces.

So how long has it been?
Six months and 6,574 questions

Where are you living?
I considered a number of options - there was the option to sleep under my desk since we do have a shower in the office (strange but true), but I discarded that idea, so I've remained in the household of my gracious, patient and very entertaining parents.

Are your parents upset?
Well, seeing as how they kept the autistic cat with no teeth who sometimes drools on the sofa and the feral cat that no one can touch who sometimes scratches the sofa, the fact that their youngest daughter who neither drools on nor shreds the sofa is still in residence is pretty much a-okay.

Isn't that expensive?
Why, yes, it is.  Especially when you discover that your toilet was left running, gushing up an $800 water bill.  Not to mention every month when I pay my mortgage, which, for the record, no anonymous benefactor has stepped forward to pay.  Interested parties should inquire within.

So is the house just empty?
No, actually, it's not.  It's a circa-1960 storage unit that now contains most of my cookware, two sofas, a television not hooked up to cable, and a stubrary full of books.

Do you have a target date in mind?
I, like the U.S. government, seem to be struggling a bit with my exit strategy.  I assure you that everything is going according to plan, and I see no reason that the operation cannot be completed within a reasonable time frame as soon an executable strategy is in place.  (So...no.)

What are you waiting for?
An Executive Order.  Divine intervention.  Planetary allignment.

Do you need help?
Psychiatric?  Yes.  What sort are you offering?

2 comments:

Shoestring Santa said...

Ashley, I love you! This made me smile and giggle on an otherwise mundane Monday. And your reasoning is very sound in my opinion. Good luck with the exit strategy! Lindsay

Amy said...

That is all completely reasonable to me. Utterly and completely. Heartbreak goes slightly better at home. Home is then hard to redefine after heartbreak.
I'm moving out of my lovely and safe parental abode in six days. In March, I sort of thought I might never recover and live with them always, so this is an improvement, but next week is going to be lonely.

Post a Comment