I'm in a wretched mood. A very un-Stepford mood, I'd say. But nonetheless. . . I just heard from the realtor who is listing my younger-self's condo in NY. The buyer who made a lowball offer and a desperate plea for my consideration (which I fell for) has now decided to back out. B * T C H! ! !
Anyway, I'm now out a considerable amount of money. In NYC you don't get a deposit until the b*tch -oops I mean buyer- gets a sales contract which incidentally costs almost $2000 to 'pull together'. It pisses me off to no end because I'm a flipping certified lawyer in that damned state and god help me but I could have done a flipping contract for flipping free. And by the way, when I say 'flipping' that is NOT AT ALL WHAT I REALLY MEAN!
I'm going to go sleep on it because that's my only real choice. It's that or 1. slit my wrists (very messy) 2. kick the dog (kind of mean but he's a real ding-dong so in his mind that might be retribution for any number of sins) or 3. both of the above with kicking first just in case I show an unexpected talent for slitting. Good night all. I guess you'll all find out how it resolves in the morning.