Fri. July 2, 2021: Feeling Like A Failure

image courtesy of FoundryCo via

Friday, July 2, 2021

Waning Moon

Pluto Retrograde

Saturn Retrograde

Jupiter Retrograde

Neptune Retrograde

Rainy and mild

It’s been the week from hell.

The trip back down last Monday was fine. We got back into the house and started packing/purging, etc. Still so much to do, and it was overwhelming. The heat and humidity didn’t help. We worked in the empty house, with no fans, and only some screens (because the landlord had removed other screens to sand/paint the windows).

The dumpster arrived in the afternoon, a beautiful thing.

Packed mostly boxes that had to go to storage on Tuesday. Wound up renting an additional storage unit for the stuff we want to come back down for in the autumn; hopefully, we can clean that unit out by October, and only carry the additional cost for a few months.

Tuesday was another hot/humid day. Did dump runs, more donations, more packing, more purging, started to organize the dumpster. The guys I hired arrived at 1, loaded up the two sets of things I’d sorted, we took them over to storage. The whole thing took only an hour and a half. They were great.

Came back, did more packing/purging/dumpster stuff. It’s still overwhelming.

Wednesday morning, our neighbors came over and helped pack the dumpster and clean out the garage. I need another dumpster. I couldn’t get it all done.

I called the landlord. He was, understandably, upset. But screaming at me that he could have rented that house next week for $10,000 was simply unrealistic. First of all, we’ve lived in it for 10 years. It needs more work than could be done over the holiday weekend. Especially considering all the stuff he never got around to doing that was promised over the past 10 years. Second, with those old bathrooms from Bathfitters and Formica counters in the kitchen, old fridge on its last legs – people are not going to pay top dollar for that. Yes, he could rent per week for several thousand dollars; but, even if we were out of the house on the 30th, it wouldn’t be by next week.

He also yanked out the bush that was Che Guevara Chipmunk’s home.

On the one hand, he’s angry that the house isn’t ready, and he can’t make weekly rental fees (something he used to say he didn’t want). On the other hand, he keeps saying how he can’t find anyone to hire, and has to do the work himself. He’s been working on the outside of the house this past month – an hour or two a day. He can’t physically get it all done by himself in a few days any more than I could physically get everything out by myself by the 30th.

Yes, I am definitely at fault here for not getting out on time; his anger and frustration are justified, and I am just as angry and frustrated with myself. But there is only so much I can do. I lost precious time trying to get us help from the organizations that were supposed to help us with the move; I lost more time because so much has to be done on other people’s schedules and takes so much damn time. Also, paying in order to make donations, and no one coming to pick them up has taken out a big chunk of my working time.

Also, we’ve lived there ten years. He’s made more than $100,000 on rent from us. The place hasn’t been painted since we moved in. There is some damage to the walls, where we hung things, but most of them are still in very good shape. We’ve lived with leaky windows that cost us a lot of extra cash in the winter to keep warm. The chimney’s never been cleaned in 10 years; we’ve never had the annual pest control we should have had; the back of the house was never painted when he had the front painted a few years back (and now, suddenly, that’s our fault? We told him the painters never came back).  When the one old fridge died, it was swapped out for the fridge that was original to the house, which is on its last legs; the carpets are 40+ years old, and while I will shampoo them because we have cats, they also need replacing.  We struggled for three years with a failing furnace until we got a new one, and that was done during a pandemic, with people traipsing in and out for estimates, etc., putting us at risk. So it’s not like everything that needs to be done that wasn’t done for the last ten years is our fault. We put in requests and things weren’t gotten around to until they were urgent. Most of the time, it was fine; stuff we could live with. But I’m not going to take the blame for it now.

Yes, not being able to get out on time is on me. I accept responsibility that I am a failure. No one is beating myself up about this more strongly than I am. But this is reality, and I have to deal with what’s in front of me and make it right. That’s what I’m trying to do.

I had hoped he’d take the next dumpster out of the security deposit, but I have to pay out of pocket. Another unexpected expense. So I’m keeping the GoFundMe fundraiser open again for a few more days to pay for that. We won’t be getting back any portion of our deposit, no matter how clean I leave the place.

Made arrangements for the dumpster swap, cleaned and packed more, got another load of stuff over to storage. My mom is fading and exhausted. She’s also creating more work for me, because she wants to help. I give her simple tasks that need to be done that aren’t taxing; she says she does them, but gets distracted and does something else (that has to be redone), and then there’s more work for me.

I’m also worried, because I haven’t been able to take on any work for two weeks, and now it will be three weeks. That’s a huge financial hit, and we have bills coming up.

Packed the car. We got a little bit of sleep, and were on the road just before 4 AM. The trip up was smooth, and we were home by 8 AM. The cats were fine and happy to see us (the arrangements we’d made for them in our absence worked).  Unloaded the car, and collapsed.

We unpacked part of the kitchen; we really need to do that in order to set up our kitchen table and give us some working room, so we can get going on the rest of the unpacking.

But we unpacked a bit, we rested; repeat.

The cats were happy to have it. It cooled down and started raining.

The postman stopped by with packages I’d mailed from the Cape. He then offered to drive back to the post office and pick up the packages we weren’t here to accept, and that’s what he did. How kind is that?

Turns out I had to dash down to the post office to mail the rent, because I couldn’t find our stamps that we bought just before coming up (bought for rent and bills). They are very nice there, but short staffed and every transaction was slow. But that’s okay; I wasn’t on a schedule.

I met a painter and a musician while waiting in line, and we discussed August Wilson, the playwright, because I bought the commemorative stamps. It was nice to talk about art. I want to be optimistic here; this seems like a place that’s more art-and-artist-oriented than the Cape. But then I remember how excited and delighted I was by everything when I first moved to the Cape, and it makes me tired. And jaded. I’m going to be cautiously optimistic, and not get caught up in things quite so fast, the way I jumped into doing things when we moved to the Cape.

That is fodder for another post in upcoming weeks.

Went to bed early; woke up early, feeling sick and exhausted. Everything hurts. I need to go to the grocery store to get my mom set up for the weekend. I head back down to Cape tomorrow morning. I have to stop at storage on my way in (losing more time) because I can’t get into my account to pay the bill that’s due tomorrow, and suddenly, they’re charging more for the second unit than they promised. Then, I’ll pick up the rug shampooer on my way in, and start the rug shampooing and that can dry while I work on the storage area. I plan to purge most of what’s left in the place; maybe salvage a few things. It’ll mean giving up lots and lots and lots of books, which breaks my heart, but that’s the reality.

It all has to be done by Monday night, so I can get the hell out of dodge by Tuesday morning. I won’t look back once I go over that bridge; I don’t want to turn into a pillar of salt.

I want to be able to return to visit, and to pick up stuff, with joy, not with sorrow or anger.

But first, I have to get this done.

Please hold a good thought for me, even though I probably don’t deserve it.

See you on the other side.

Published in: on July 2, 2021 at 8:17 am  Leave a Comment  

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