wpainterw

High Anxiety! Stress! Paranoia!
As I may have mentioned earlier, I have been trying to sell my house in D.C. and the closing was set for today. Unfortunately it had to be postponed on short notice (I had my plane and car reservations and appointments to visit two close friends.). The closing was postponed until Monday because of errors made by the buyer’s agents (not by the buyer herself) and, due to health issues, I cannot attend and had to sign the papers up here. I found myself stressed out and was advised by my real estate agent to “calm down” (today the expression is “cool it, dude!”). Not withstanding the wisdom of this admonition I, or maybe my AV, resented it as a “put down”. Hence the following parable:

“There once was a school bus, filled with happy little children, happy because many had mommies and daddies who sold real estate. In the back of the bus was an 89 year old man, hard of hearing and with heart trouble. A psychiatrist, hard up for cash, was driving the bus part time to make do.
The bus was proceeding down a steep, narrow, mountain road. On its right was a cliff with a fall of around 1,000 feet. On its left was a steep mountain side in front of which was a joyful picnic of Catholic nuns. As the bus was going down hill suddenly it was confronted by a crippled, autistic baby with a hairlip. The kids in the bus shouted “Crush the kid! Go for it!” The 89 year old man in the back, having a fondness for autistic hairlips, grew increasingly frantic and began yelling, “Head for the Nuns!”
The psychiatrist driver was the only one who kept his head and counseled, “Just calm down! (And how do you feel about that feeling? I’ll send you all a bill in the mail. Your time’s up. See me a week from today.”
At the top of the cliff was a heavy set man with orange colored hair. He started shouting, “Don’t worry. I’m going to fix everything once I get to be President of the United States! Those nuns and that baby were put there by ISIS. I’m going to find out who did that and.... (well you can imagine the rest of what he said).”
So let’s all calm down We’re all going to be happy????”

So what am I happy about? That it did not occur to me to drink or drug except for two Tylenol. Trying to sell my house has made me a bit paranoid. I had to fill out tons of forms disclosing all that might be wrong with the house even though it was listed for sale “as is”, pay “fix up” charges of over $41,000 and sign an “affidavit of continuous marriage” because I held a power of attorney from my wife of 61 years (Is that long enough to establish integrity?) I volunteered to take a lie detector test but they thought that would be letting me off easy. So I’m paranoid. And if you are too, remember, even though you’re paranoid they always come for the paranoids first!.

silentrun

I love your posts Painter! Offer them a stool sample and see what they say. Remember, just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they are not out to get you. I'm sure you'll be fine.

wpainterw

Can't figure out the reference to the stool sample which you apparently "offer to my posts," which you say you love, to "see what they say." . Have you been reading Kraft-Ebing? I used to have a copy but it disappeared. I wonder what happened to it?

Bewildered.

IvanMike

Reminds me of something I heard.

When a normal person gets a flat tire, they call triple A.

When an alcoholic/addict gets a flat tire, they call the suicide hotline.

Glad I'm not the only one. - Hang in there painter. Sorry about the hassle. You'll be ok, we always are.

Bewitched, Bebothererd, and Bemildred.

Dee74

I've heard it said that selling a house is one of the most stressful things anyone can experience.

Makes me glad I'm a lifelong renter...

I hope it's over soon, Bill - best wishes

D

wpainterw

Thanks Dee. Oh I can recall many many more stressful experiences than selling a house. In one way or another all were associated with alcohol. This one was not. It seems that the trouble has passed now. The papers have all been signed, at least by us. Now all we need is the sale proceeds. If there is trouble in that respect the F.B.I. has its main office in D.C. I haven't been there since I was ten years old, shook hands with J. Edgar Hoover and watched the Gmen shoot Tommy Guns in the basement. There was also a corridor of exhibits from Capone, Machine Gun Kelly, Baby Face Nelson, Bonny and Clyde and (my favorite) Ma Barker. When it came to crime, the U.S.A. led the world!

Bill

Soberwolf

Good luck Painter

saoutchik

You're a bad bad boy

By the way what colour dress was J. Edgar wearing?

Seriously, I hope there are no more snafus between now and receipt of payment WP

firstymer

I hope you buy yourself something really nice with sale proceeds, Bill. You deserve it.

wpainterw

He was wearing a suit and looked perfectly normal to me. Of course in those early days the word, "normal", meant something a little different than in these times. He didn't at all resemble the future icon, Michael Jackson, nor was he playing a guitar. He gave me a signed autographed photo but maybe my mommy took it away. I can't find it now!

thomas11

Well, this certainly hits home as I am in the final stages of real estate school. Too many "bad" incompetent agents out there, and their incompetence has adversely affected you. Shame on them! Hang in there Bill, I always enjoy your posts, and I'm glad it was just 2 Tylenol to calm, as opposed to a bottle of spirits.

ps: I think your paranoia is justified. The sale of a home is a large amount of money changing hands, and whenever that is the case, there are sharks in the water that smell blood.

wpainterw

I think that the next step is a compulsory lie detector test for all sellers to make sure that they are not lying about house defects. If they are caught "lying" they should be hustled off immediately to jail and held without bail because they are dangerous to the community of greedy real estate agents and buyers. Our future is clear. Safeguard money, not civil rights. Nature is wolf like, awarding hustle, not morality. It's not "dog eat dog". Dogs are better than that. Many are kind, particularly the English ones, who behave like gentlemen as they try to get as many cookies as possible. Cookies are fine, but be decent in getting them! Avoid vulgarity!

Darwinia

Selling house? Has the possibility of an orange haired president forced you to emigrate to Greenland? Can't say I blame you. Running now is not paranoid, it's very sensible.

wpainterw

No, not Greenland. That's cold and the only way to get warm is to stay close to the Volcanos. The place to go is New Zealand, suggested by our much respected Ms. Justice Ginzburg of the United States Supreme Court. If the Orangeman becomes President he will pack the Court with fanatic conservatives.There will be guns everywhere. Maybe even the judges will carry guns, like Judge Roy Bean down in Texas years ago (He said he was "The Law West of the Picos").New Zealand has beaches, mountains, skiing, and Koala bears.

W.

Dee74

NZ is a great country - but the only koala bears there are in zoos Bill.

Australia's their natural habitat

We keep trying to get NZ to federate with us but they keep resisting...



D

wpainterw

How about Sloths? I need something furry and cuddly. Fur covered prozac.

Bill

wpainterw

P.S. The only effective antidote is laughter. Cf. Rafael Sabatini's "Scaramouche's" (1921) opening line: "He was born with a gift of laughter and a sense that the world was mad. And that was all his patrimony. His very paternity was obscure...,"

Dee74

Only two legged sloths here Bill. Possums are pretty cute tho.

wpainterw

I want four legged sloths. Is New Zealand the place? Ms. Justice Ginzburg thinks so! I've got to have something small, furry, which doesn't bite.

Bill

wpainterw

Been thinking it over. "Offer them a stool sample"means instead of a lie detector test! Good idea! The closing is tomorrow. Don't know how to arrange it.
My earlier misreading just indicates how rattled my old brain is what with endless interrogatories, certificates of continuous marriage (with a blank to fill in the marriage date (a mere 61 years!) Like the old song from the King and I: "Getting to know you! Getting to learn all about you!"
Apologies for the misunderstanding. (Never found my Krafft-Ebing. Did my kids take it, maybe to show and tell at school?)

Bill