My real estate agent called during General Hospital to ask me if I wanted to keep my listing price the same now that the 10 Day Sell-a-thon with Coldwell Banker is over. I told her that I might as well; it's not like raising the price is going to bring the buyers in, especially if a sales event couldn't do it. I didn't have the energy to talk to her about a short sale. I never got around to calling Chase today thanks to what I am now calling Sinusgate. My throat is raw yet again, my nose and ears are stopped up, and my under eye area looks a little green. All in all, I'm feeling pretty miserable from the neck up and have been on and off again for the last six months. It's like having a sinus infection that never ends. Pretty soon I'm going to have to break down, insurance or no insurance, and go beg a physician's assistant at Urgent Care for a Z-pack, that or find some alternative treatment online.I'm beginning to wonder if I am ever going to be able to sell this house in this economy, even at a short sale price. Even if I could get a potential buyer or renter in here, my neighbors are going to ruin it for me. No one wants to be around that much noise and chaos. I took a Benadryl around 4 p.m. and laid down in hopes that a quick nap would relieve some of my sinus suffering. I never got to find out, however, because Satan's Spawn--the out-of-control, disrespectful, destructive, foul-mouthed children on my street--have some type of nap-radar that alerts them whenever I need peace and quiet. Rather than giving me what I want, they stand outside my house and scream until I finally give up on R&R, at which time they magically disappear into their own homes or another street.
I am also wondering why I bought this house in the first place. I abhor subdivisions. I always have, even before I moved into the Village of the Damned. I don't like the concept of somebody telling you what you can and cannot do to or on your private property, all in the interest of uniformity. Subdivisions always make me think of that X-files episode where Mulder and Scully pose as a married couple and move into a subdivision where several of the residents have disappeared after breaking the neighborhood's covenants . While I doubt that the homeowner's association would make me disappear into a black hole if I broke one of the covenants, I don't doubt that they would fine me. If I were to hang bamboo blinds or patterned Roman shades in my window, get another dog or cat, plant unapproved shrubbery, replace my rusted black mailbox with a white one, cut down the scrappy tree in my front yard, or paint my door some color other than wine, the homeowner's association could fine me $200 and up. They'd do it, too, if for no other reason than to recoup the loss that I assume they are currently suffering from other residents' unpaid homeowner's dues.
Note to self: Next time you buy a house, don't buy one in a subdivision, don't buy one where the next house is five feet from your own, and don't buy one where the resident children need an exorcist worse than they need a timeout.
