My wife and I have been trying to sell our house for over two years. Just before Christmas, we tried to figure out what to do about it. It ended in a humorous bet. I bet her that our house would not sell by next Christmas. She agreed, being convinced the house would sell well before. The loser of the bet would have to feed Marlow, our dog, every day for six months. Right now, we trade off days to feed Marlow, and it's become the dreaded before-bed, colder-than-a-grave-digger's-ass task.
So, in good humor, I had been feeding the dog every day since I learned we sold the house. Yesterday, I found out reports of my loss had been greatly exaggerated. I'd say I'm surprised, but I'm not. The house deal fell through because the buyer (I use the term loosely) is mentally incompetent.
That's right. Only people who cannot make contractual obligations because of some unusual disability are crazy enough to buy our house. Which means, of course, that they can't buy our house. And they didn't.
By my count my wife has about five days of catching up to do on feeding the dog. Hey, I'll take what I can get at this point. I'm so beyond anger and frustration I don't even have words for it anymore. So, I just laugh about it, but really feel pretty hollow.
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