Everybody Limbo!

So the house situation is like being in limbo. Not the limbo where unbaptised babies went in the horror movie that was my early religious education. It's not quite that bad. I'm talking the limbo where you have to bend over backwards and shimmy under a pole and try to pretend you're having a good time while you do it. My back ain't what it used to be folks and my patience never existed, so come on already!!!!

"The House," (that's how it appears in my mind) is owned by two banks, and banks don't have to do anything they don't want to, as we have learned. Certainly not in a timely fashion. They won't just say "yes!" Just say "yes" to us paying money for the house you want to get off your books! Just say "yes" to letting us move in while the second floor is still visible above the weeds! Just say "yes" to letting us have some paperwork to show the school district so that Comet doesn't have to change schools a week after school starts on August 25th.

Or just say "no" and put me out of my misery! I'm beginning to see my beautiful house as the weedy, dusty, abandoned stepchild of some hardhearted entities who don't care if Jack McKoi or LaKoi-a Jackson (my goldfish to be) die in their little pond home. Who don't care if everything grows together in a big tangled messy, and I spend the rest of my days playing "Weed, Not a Weed?" They don't care that I'm afraid to pack in case I have to unpack everything all over again. They don't care how many tums I have to ingest or how jumpy I've become. It's no skin off their portfolio!

So, banks, whatever your names are, hear my impassioned plea: Just say "yes, Yes, YES" to accepting our offer! Because we'd like to have the place inspected and make sure it isn't insulated with mold spores or built on a hellmouth. Come to think of it, the hellmouth wouldn't get us out of our contract.