Officially California residents again…finally.
I wish I could say, yayyy, we’re back in Cali, we’re back in Cali and do the appropriate happy dance, but right now, I’m feeling a bit robbed. What was supposed to be a truly awesome moment has been seriously overshadowed by all the difficulties, and unfortunately, they haven’t stopped.
Let’s see, where did I leave off on my move update? Did I mention that I’d hit a pole with my car when I parked at the KOA on Wednesday night? That my car, my Charger with a Hemi and a sunroof, leather, heated seats and every gadget known to man, is one of my babies and doesn’t have a scratch on it? Until now. It has two dented driver’s side doors and will need some buffing, body work and paint.
Had I gotten to the part where we realized the leak not only included the entire slideout seal, but the corner of the master bedroom over my husband’s pillow? Or that the refrigerator continues to freeze everything inside, or that the black water sensor is either malfunctioning or the tank isn’t flushing properly?
You couldn’t make a movie about this, people wouldn’t believe it. If I’d told you two weeks ago that we have a black cloud over our heads, you’d have thought I was nuts. But now that you read it all, are you wondering, hmmm, maybe?
While on the drive, my oldest found out her job was gone, effective immediately, as her boss closed down the company without any notice. Then, when we arrived to sunny California, the place that had no rain on the forecast for over 10 days out, and where the radar map showed no rain, it started pouring this morning. Cue the leaks. Mythical rain. It got even weirder when the RV repair guy called us from the end of the driveway..THE END OF THE DRIVEWAY…to say “it’s not raining here. It’s only raining on your RV.”
Now, I’m working with a hotspot internet service (if you’re in the market, the Virgin Mobile Jetpack MiFi is well-worth the cost) and sitting at a table with both laptops and a broken printer. Yep, add the printer to the list of things I have to repair or replace this week. It gets longer, as the hubs just went to check out our 53’ trailer of possessions, which safely arrived a few days before us, to find that our industrial refrigerator and freezer appear to be crushed.
I have a lot of other little gems – like buyers that think they bought a maid service and a concierge and a brand new 20-year-old house and their lender, who forgot three critical forms until after we all closed, delaying our payout until we could pull over on the road and Docusign them. Yet, somehow our buyers ended up in our house still, before it had officially closed, writing up their list of requests and questions of ridiculousness. (Note to future homebuyers: your inability to locate the mailbox on the street, at the end of the driveway, or your refusal to accept that not all homes have mailboxes on the front porch, is NOT the seller’s fault. Have requests? Make them before you close. Don’t bug your realtor to pester the seller every.single.day and realtors, sellers aren’t sitting here to kiss hiney on buyers. Respect that it’s a two-way transaction, pretty please? There are families and lives waiting on both ends of the deal. It’s great if we have time to hold your hand and show you how to use the water dispenser on the fridge, but not our responsibility…especially when we’re in the midst of a road-trip that you knew about. We signed. You signed. Done.)
Oh, and our new lender forgot three pieces of documentation she needs until we were out on the road, too, so now we’re over a week behind in getting the pre-qualification that our realtor needs to help us start house hunting. It’s hard to print, sign, scan and email back when you’re unable to find your purse or your printer, and now it’s that much longer we’re going to be living in the RV.
But at this point? What.ever.
I wanted to jump up and down, hang out with friends, meet people to say hello again, and head to Starbucks. Instead, I spent my first day sitting in jeans on a cold, rainy day, watching my pennies since I have no clue at all how much the RV and car repairs will be. I’m considering a priest to bless the RV. Anyone have any thoughts on that?
I need a restart. I really am happy to be here in California away from the things we hated about the south, but it’s so easy to think right now “If we’d just stayed put…<husband would have a job and not be hunting, appliances would be working, we’d not be at least $2000 short due to repairs, we’d not have a car with dented doors or an RV without a window.>” I know, I know, all minor stuff in the big picture but the big picture costs and on one-income right now, it really stinks as the choice to not fix is just not there. At least the opportunities we planned on are out here; we just now have to have the time to get to them, and get over the black cloud attitude that gets in our way of enjoying them. We used to have the coolest and greatest of everything, and now I’m humbled by realizing that in a major sense, this move is most definitely a restart, just of more major proportions than we’d hoped. That’s not all bad though, right? We’re lucky to have wonderful friends putting us up in their south 40, wonderful family who helped us get out here in one piece and enjoyed the adventure with us, and a lot of other friends who will be a part of this new life…and three Starbucks within a few miles of where I sit. I just may sneak over there…