Run away, friends. Run far, far away.
I'm afraid my streak of bad luck has reached its peak and who knows who will next be snared in it's gnarly claws of doom!!!
Pure Luck: the Stacie Lucas story
I'm writing this as a weekend update, even though the weekend is far from over and we'll be hitting another one before I'm even ready.
I only just this morning felt well enough to go to work after a stomach bug hit me Sunday and left me flat on my back, unable to stand for even thirty seconds without severe stomach pains. So here I am, on Wednesday, feeling like it's Monday, trying to get my whole self used to the fact that it is hump day and tomorrow will be the day before the day before the weekend, and....no, you're right, that really isn't too big of a hassle.
So before I ramble any further about something that has nothing to do with anything...
Corey and I have been in the process of buying a townhouse since late February. As most homeowners know, these things take awhile. You know, with the bank stuff and the title stuff and insurance and blah, blah, blah. As most homeowners who are married to me now know, when I'm involved the whole process is excruciating.
Where art thou, Lady Luck?!
"They're not all like this," our realtor explained. "This is the worst I've ever seen."
Great. I'll try to remember that when I never, ever move ever again.
Our closing was scheduled for this past Monday afternoon. It was originally set for early April but with so many additional requirements and lost (but later found!) paperwork we were relieved last week to finally have a set date to own our home!
Everything was finally going to be over! And done! And we could pop champagne! And potty in our new toilets!
Oh, ho, ho naive little ones...
This girl had to lose her wallet on Saturday. Wait, no, I set it down at Coldstone Creamery and then someone swiped it. But in my defense, I had to carry my ice cream aaaaand Corey's milkshake. My subconscious made the difficult decision: dessert comes first, wallet must wait.
I had money in my wallet, and credit cards, and my work ID, and my driver's license. Annoying. So, so annoying. I canceled my credit cards right away. And I fumed about losing my weekend garage sale money on a day when there was a ten family sale down the street. Ten families, I said!!
My coffee club cards were in there too, and I was this close to getting a free coffee any size at Coffee Planet. I had big plans for that free coffee, a java chip frappe. A frappe I said!!
So, my driver's license was gone. And being a first time home-buyer I didn't know the bank would like to see it and verify I am who I say I am before handing over my house. Imagine that. So there I sat Monday morning in my jammies, immersed in Lifetime movies and a heating pad with nothing left in my stomach to, um, expel when I got the call from Corey.
Hey, you're gonna need your license...
The next two hours was a blur of yelling, rummaging, running up and down stairs, sobbing at the DMV, and lots and lots of gagging and body cramps.
Go get a temporary license from DMV....see if they'll print a picture on the temporary,be really nice....wait, let's look for your passport....where's your passport?.....I think it's at my mom's house....call your mom.....mom can you look through my stuff?.....wait I found it....don't worry, mom, we found it, p.s. sorry you're sick too....oh no it's expired!....can we use it anyway?....no? CRAP....ok, go get your license....ok, I need to take a puke bucket....wait do you have your Purdue ID?.....at my mom's house....call your mom....mom can you look through my stuff?.....no time, go to the DMV and get your license....mom, forget about it p.s. sorry to make you almost throw up climbing up the stairs to look through my stuff....ok, where's my puke bucket? can you get me some water for the road?....is this the right application?.....yes.....my (sob, sob) wallet was (sob) stolen and I'm supposed to (sob, sob, sob, sniffle) close on my house in forty-five minutes!!....here ya go hon'....that's it?!.....that's it....Corey I got it....that's it?....yep, that's it....ok, um, you gonna take a shower?....yes....ok hurry.
I call that the Reader's Digest version.
We get to the closing four minutes late with my birth certificate to prove the picture on my expired passport is really me, my marriage license to prove the person on my passport and birth certificate is the new, married me, my Social Security card to show I'm documented, and my temporary driver's license just for the hell of it. We crossed our fingers.
In the end the bank could not have cared less. I'm sure they would have taken a kindergarten self-portrait.
So that, my friends, is the recent installation to the story of my no good, very bad luck.
It was nice knowing you, now run for the hills before I cause generations of early onset baldness or an outbreak of feline AIDS in your subdivision.