If these are the ‘better days’ that everyone said were ahead, I’ll pass, thanks

Today was so stressful, it felt like a workday.

Got up early to go look at a house I’ve been lusting after. The listing agent on it never called me so I called a realtor friend and asked her to hook me up with a showing for the 3/2 villa at X price point on the water. I said it was a gated community so I’d meet her at the gate.

She calls me at five till the appointed hour to see where I am. And says, oh, there’s an ungated entrance — use that.

Hmm. I’ve driven by this thing a million times. Everything is gated down there.

I said, where is this entrance that is ungated?

She gives me an intersection.

There are no intersections ON THE DAMN WATER.

Turns out that there is a complex with the same name and apparently same setup and price, completely on the other side of town.

That’s where she was.


So I find the listing agent and hunt his ass down to get to see “my” place. He picks up and he’s either asleep or in mid-fuck … I can’t really tell. He says he’ll call me in a couple of hours when he gets to the office.

Fast-forward exactly eight hours and I get a call. He’s just as idiotic-sounding as he was earlier. Tries forwarding me to his “partner” who, gee at six o’clock on a Saturday isn’t at her desk, which he apparently can see from where he’s sitting.

He hangs up on me three times and finally calls back now (8 p.m.) to say OK fine he will help me himself.

So the unit I loved? Under contingency. Someone else is applying for it and getting it.

He tells me to text him my e-mail address. I texted him the fact that I e-mailed him on February fucking 16th from this e-mail address. Meaning, if your DUMB ASS had gotten your shit together last week, this could have been MY HOUSE.

Oh I am so bitter I cannot breathe.

I work my ASS off so that everything is perfect and every ass is adequately kissed or slapped or whatever their fancy is. And then this idiot just lets me fall through the cracks like I am not worthy of the wonderful things I deserve in this existence. And he sounds like he’s rich — asked me if I wanted to rent a house he personally owns for the low price of $3,000 a month.

Fucker mouse.

Something better will come along. God if I keep saying it long enough, you will bring better things along, right? Or if these are the better days I was promised, just tell me and I will END IT NOW.

I don’t even want to talk about the rest of the day. But if this is how the latest Mercury retrograde cycle kicks off, you can find me under my damn covers for the next few weeks.

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