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Mar. 13th, 2012 05:37 pmHad a realtor come over today.
What he told me about the market and the possible selling price of our house was not the most depressing part of his visit.
The most depressing part was his offhand comment as he left: "So, you'll want to be purging stuff and packing up..."
FUCK YOU WHITE MAN YOU DON'T EVEN FUCKING KNOW
Okay, okay. He did say that the way I had things set up made the rooms look nice and spacious, and when he traveled to the basement and saw the six bookshelves and the eleventy boxes of books chilling down there I don't think it really registered because those were unfinished areas and who cares, plus there's no way he could have known about the dozen or so boxes hiding under beds and such. He had no way of knowing that I've packed about thirty-leven boxes and generally fucked up our entire lives and also my father-in-law emailed today asking for a couple books which I know are boxed up somewhere and I just. don't. wanna. deal with it.
(He did say it wasn't a big deal, and I promise I will send them to him... eventually. When I find them.)
But yeah, it made me want to destroy things, so I went ahead and hammered away at the gigantor old printer Charles brought home not six months ago. It's seriously about 3'x3'x3' and at least 100lb. He never meant it to last long, which is funny because I told all the moving assessors it was coming with, because I just wasn't sure -- always clarify these things, kids. He is now permitting me to destroy the fuck out of it as long as I don't use the sledge while he's trying to relax. (The sledge doesn't work so well, so this is not difficult.)
I've told two of our neighbors that we're moving. They both hate it, because they like that we're interested in home improvements and general good behavior, but they understand. I'm just glad that I was able to tell creepy Ron, the self-elected Neighborhood Watch, in person; if he'd heard about it at second-hand I think he would've just up and died.
My parents are coming this weekend to help us with things. They are super-thrilled with the whole situation and I think they would do 100% of the work if we let them.
The realtor told me we would have to destroy our garage if we wanted any buyers to be eligible for government loans, since it would probably be listed as a health and safety issue. I agree. I've also called a property management company that the realtor recommended, for rental purposes, and he said the city has to certify rental properties -- which almost certainly means the garage needs to die. I confirmed with the city that I don't need a contractor to tear the thing down, but I do need to pull out the foundation.
So you see where I'm going: the city guy told me he could process the demo permit in a day if I got it to him early enough, so I'm going to do that, and then get a dumpster, and then kill the fuck out of the garage. And it's going to be amazing.
Well, I don't know exactly how it's going to work out, but it'll be awesome and I'll try to take pictures. Especially of me with a 20lb sledge going to town.
What he told me about the market and the possible selling price of our house was not the most depressing part of his visit.
The most depressing part was his offhand comment as he left: "So, you'll want to be purging stuff and packing up..."
FUCK YOU WHITE MAN YOU DON'T EVEN FUCKING KNOW
Okay, okay. He did say that the way I had things set up made the rooms look nice and spacious, and when he traveled to the basement and saw the six bookshelves and the eleventy boxes of books chilling down there I don't think it really registered because those were unfinished areas and who cares, plus there's no way he could have known about the dozen or so boxes hiding under beds and such. He had no way of knowing that I've packed about thirty-leven boxes and generally fucked up our entire lives and also my father-in-law emailed today asking for a couple books which I know are boxed up somewhere and I just. don't. wanna. deal with it.
(He did say it wasn't a big deal, and I promise I will send them to him... eventually. When I find them.)
But yeah, it made me want to destroy things, so I went ahead and hammered away at the gigantor old printer Charles brought home not six months ago. It's seriously about 3'x3'x3' and at least 100lb. He never meant it to last long, which is funny because I told all the moving assessors it was coming with, because I just wasn't sure -- always clarify these things, kids. He is now permitting me to destroy the fuck out of it as long as I don't use the sledge while he's trying to relax. (The sledge doesn't work so well, so this is not difficult.)
I've told two of our neighbors that we're moving. They both hate it, because they like that we're interested in home improvements and general good behavior, but they understand. I'm just glad that I was able to tell creepy Ron, the self-elected Neighborhood Watch, in person; if he'd heard about it at second-hand I think he would've just up and died.
My parents are coming this weekend to help us with things. They are super-thrilled with the whole situation and I think they would do 100% of the work if we let them.
The realtor told me we would have to destroy our garage if we wanted any buyers to be eligible for government loans, since it would probably be listed as a health and safety issue. I agree. I've also called a property management company that the realtor recommended, for rental purposes, and he said the city has to certify rental properties -- which almost certainly means the garage needs to die. I confirmed with the city that I don't need a contractor to tear the thing down, but I do need to pull out the foundation.
So you see where I'm going: the city guy told me he could process the demo permit in a day if I got it to him early enough, so I'm going to do that, and then get a dumpster, and then kill the fuck out of the garage. And it's going to be amazing.
Well, I don't know exactly how it's going to work out, but it'll be awesome and I'll try to take pictures. Especially of me with a 20lb sledge going to town.
