It was one rough week.
We are still hoping for a miracle that the Landlord will sell us our present abode at a reasonable price. We had hoped by spending the last Day of Rest cleaning our place top-to-bottom and having it sparkle that the landlord could sell it as is. But he walked through the home quickly on Sunday to say he can't sell it without renovation and he would like us to leave as quickly as we can. It's now the end of that week and not a box is packed.
Which means we will have to look for a place for rent for four months, until we move into our new place - that is, if we can get the new place.
We are hoping that one bank will give us the OK to get a mortgage with them. It's an easier process than it used to be. You used to have to put 40% of the price down and above that get two guarantors to sign. So if you run away to America or Europe and leave all your debts behind, the banks would run after your guarantors. I've heard horror stories of guarantors that trusted their best friends and close relatives, only to find that they were stuck with the mortgage. Nowadays that has all changed and the banks will take back your house. But it's not that easy to be approved for a mortgage. Not all banks will approve. They have different criteria.
And all through this chaotic week I worked like a slave/dog at my job and Hubby had four teeth pulled. It wasn't easy. The freeze didn't take and he sat there for two hours writhing in pain because he didn't want to ever go through this again. Not to mention everyone called for him that Thursday. The seller of the new apartment who wanted us to sign the contract that day because it was the end of the month, potential clients, new immigrants who wanted to brainstorm with him about finding work, you name it, they called him. My son fielded the calls and told everyone that dad had his teeth taken out and couldn't meet them or greet them or come to the phone. No secrets there.
And my married kid was traumatized by her crazy Orthodox new sister-in-law of hers in the US but in Jerusalem for a visit, who decided that she had "ruined her child" because my daughter photographed her teen kid with a cigarette in her hand during a two hour outing last summer to our home.
"You piece of shit" (daughter recorded this conversation). "If I see you, I'll slap your face. You've RUINED my daughter. You took her to your home and let her hang out with your sister who looks like a street hooker!!! Your family are a bunch of low lifes (how on earth could she have found that out!!??)....." and the conversation went on with more threats between the two.
I told my daughter - not to worry. If I have to call that crazy woman I will and I'll tell her it wasn't a cigarette, it was a joint and that we're not street hookers, we're high-class escorts, and she should damn well know the difference.
Hubby, still suffering from his dental trauma, managed one sentence to calm my daughter down which proves you don't need a full set of teeth to sprout gems such as this.
"My shit in the toilet this morning looked better than her face."
And he laughed, and she laughed and I couldn't stop laughing looking at him...
Saturday, December 02, 2006
It was one rough week.