Hey, look!  I’m still standing . . . to quote Elton John and his big goofy glasses.  Try not to pay attention to the fishing line wrapped around me, holding me up.  If it LOOKS like I’m standing, it totally counts. 

Earlier in the week we received approval from our first mortgage company (CitiMortgage) on the short sale.  The second mortgage company - who happens to be SunTrust - has been nothing but a pain in the ass since this all started.  Who can blame them, really?  The first mortgage company gets a chunk of cash, not to mention the gajillions of interest charged for the past 4 years.  SunTrust will get nothing.  Not a dime.  They could try to sue us - and maybe they will - but what are they going to sue us for?  A rental apartment?  A farting labrador?  Maybe a 401(k).  Still, our first mortgage company has told us we must close by June 3.  Happy to do that, but we can’t until SunTrust decides what they’re doing.  So now our realtor has to go back again and negotiate an extension for us. 

Frustrating as well because SunTrust is local, but has been impossible to reach.  Their customer service is, well, lacking at best, nearly criminal at worst.  Some departments only allow you to communicate with them via fax.  They apparently haven’t heard about telephones.  Or email.  Or they’ve heard of them, and have decided, “Meh.  Why bother with those when we can hide behind a fax machine?”  CitiMortgage on the other hand has been efficient, polite, easy to reach, and did I already say, efficient? It’s a much better organization and structure for this kind of unpleasantness. 

Our most fabulous (and incredibly patient) realtor asked me today if I was hanging in there.  Yep, I said.  I am.  But I am definitely getting to the end of my rope over here.  Between a divorce, packing this entire monstrosity alone, the emotional toll, caring for my children, dealing with a couple of friendships that really need to change or end, and my job (which suddenly is going nuts - yay money, boo timing!), I am truly very tired now.  I had a medical procedure done earlier in the week.  Normally I’d be bouncing off the walls by now, but it threw me for a loop.  I am still tired, cranky, sore, and unable to be excited about anything.  Forcing myself to run or swim laps is as appealing as scrubbing grout on my hands and knees, or listening to another Junie B. Jones book. 

I try to look around me and see progress.  But right now, as I look around, I realize that I’ve forgotten to take that picture down, or that I really haven’t cleaned out my closet, or that I’m going to find another unpleasant surprise in a drawer somewhere (like when I found my husband’s wedding ring shoved into a toothbrush holder and thrown into a drawer).  There are little “Fuck You’s” all over the house - excuse my French, but that’s what they are - and I don’t blame him.  Packing up and tearing apart is hard enough.  The FU’s are, as I enjoy saying, the cherry on my shit sundae. 

I’ve hired a moving company, gotten all of the utilities set up at the rental house, bought all of the paint, coerced, begged and threatened every person I know within a 50 mile radius into either helping with the kids or picking up a paintbrush or scrubbing a floor, packed about 1/4 of the house, sorted and sold over 150 books (and there’s still an attic full of them), removed all of my yard stuff that I can, and begun sorting the garage.  I’m making progress, but for someone who’s mantra has always been “just get it done”, I’m really not getting it done.  It’s May 6, and I am moving.  I am not ready. 

I’ve got two very difficult discussions scheduled for the next week.  I don’t want to have either of them, but I must.  Since I am always saying 2010 is the year of honesty, I also have to admit that 2010 is the year of admitting when enough is too much, and when I have to draw the line between being supportive and loyal and when I’m hurting myself by doing so.  Honesty is great in theory but it sucks to implement. 

In the meantime, if any of my readers are in the SunTrust short sale department, could y’all please install that crazy thing known as a telephone, and could you also light a fire under your ass?  We’re dying over here.