1. I am an inveterate collector and displayer of things, to the point that in my personal Furniture Hall of Fame the spot of highest honor goes not to The Recliner or even The Keg-Fridge but rather the Bookcase (or any other related kind of general shelving)
2. Anything that sits on a shelf for a prolonged period of time will inevitably collect dust, and the smaller and fiddlier such items may be, the more likely that they will never receive proper dusting due to time constraints
3. I am debilitatingly allergic to dust, to the point where an allergy attack brought on by dust can blind me with tears, pack my sinuses with solid pain, and make me lightheaded from oxygen deprivation in a matter of minutes
4. Moving, by dint of involving disturbing collections, stirs up dust like few other activities
5. Moving every few years is more or less inevitable
6. THEREFORE, I am apparently committing the slowest, most agonizing, and while I’m at it most expensive form of suicide possible, QED.
Respiratory trauma aside, though, everything is moving along pretty well. The happiest recent development is that it looks like the old townhouse should be no trouble to rent as there is already a lot of interest lining up. Our whole strategy of buying while the market was good for buying, and selling later when the market is good for selling pretty much depended entirely on covering as much of the old mortgage as possible with rent, so it’s a big relief to see that angle coming together. We still have some repair issues to work out with the sellers of our new house and the origination of our mortgage just had to be changed because of some arcane FHA geographical restrictions that I won’t even pretend to fully understand. But I am both optimistic and confident that everything will work itself out according to plan.
I should really get some of those breathing masks from the hardware store if I’m going to make it through the next month.
No comments:
Post a Comment