So- do you want to hear a crazy, outlandish story that just happens to be true? Isn't that why we're all reading blogs in the first place? Ok, here goes:
Two days before our move is scheduled, I am at the new house hanging drapes... and failing. I'm texting my Dad in frustration because everywhere I drill seems to have a layer of metal behind the drywall. I'm getting pretty exasperated at the thought of not being able to hang my pretty pretty draperies. By this point we have emptied out our storage unit full of random unnecessary junk I can't seem to throw away, and I've made about seven trips with a car full of more of our stuff of varying substance. All we had left was to move the big furniture over, and we're set.
That was, until I received a call from the landlord. He had bad news. The house was going into foreclosure. (Um... excuse me? It can't be going into foreclosure- I'm hanging drapes! Right now!) Then it continued to get better. Not only was he losing the house, it was going up for auction... THE VERY NEXT DAY.
So there I was, in a house full of my own stuff, at 2:30 in the afternoon, having to coordinate a slew of people who probably had other things to do that day, and get them over to the house asap to load up the last remaining moving van I could find on such short notice. (a real clunker that felt as though it would just fall apart on the road) I spent the latter part of yesterday hauling heavy boxes, unwieldily items, and glass kitchenware I didn't want to risk boxing up. Filling our garage to the brim in a really depressing heap of dashed dreams. In short- the move is off. And I've already packed everything we own.
And! To add insult to injury, I'm not 100% sure we're getting our deposit back. There is a large chance this guy is going to walk away that much richer with our dinero.