Arg. Arg.

No, that's not a pirate noise.

That's the sound of frustration.

I was supposed to sign the lease on my new apartment today. The rental agent called me this week and said "Good news! Your application was accepted. However, the owner is selling the house."

Nice. Well, chances are, that's not going to be that big of a deal. The only problem would be if the new owner wanted to live there. Then I would have to clear out in 60 days. If the new owner was just looking for rental income (similar to the current owner), they would have to honor the lease.

So that took a little of the shine off the place. But it was still a good house, in a good neighborhood. The owner's asking price was more than twice the taxed assessed value of the place, so my guess was that the only thing that would happen is that I would have a 'For Sale' sign on my front lawn. No biggie.

On Saturday, I was supposed to sign my lease for our new apartment. My appointment time was at 2. I get there, and he's with a different client. I sit in the waiting room, and he eventually brings out the lease. The lease says "May 1." I had said "May 15." He says he'll have to talk to the landlord.

Back into his office he goes. He comes back out and says "I fought tooth and nail for you, and you can move in on the 15th." He hands me another paper. "And here's the pet addendum. We need an additional $500 deposit."

I work with salespeople every day. I know how they operate. But even if I didn't, there wasn't much of a mistake here. "Fought tooth and nail" was the first alarm. When a salesman says that, they're trying to get you to believe they're on your side. When a salesman wants you to believe he's on on your side, it means he really isn't on your side. I'm ok with the fact that his job is to make as much money for himself and his client as he can. But when he tries to play me, that says something about his ethics.

And, I don't have a problem with a landlord wanting extra for pets. It's his or her right to ask that. Dropping it on my lap at signing is bullshit.

Arg.

So, I've got my security deposit back. But I'm still without a place to move. I have until June 1st, but I really wanted a place starting the 15th, so that I can take two weeks to move and clean.

I'm not worried. I'm sure I'll find a place. I'm merely frustrated.

A second Arg goes out to STBEW. Earlier this week she said she's planning a trip with her AA sponsor to Philadelphia. Her sponsor has a sister in the area, and she was going to take her own two kids (who are about the same age as mine) for a long weekend visit.

I've only met her sponsor briefly a couple of time. She seems nice enough. She's a single mom with two kids. She just had a bunch of repairs done on a van she just acquired, so it's in good shape. But still, my initial reaction was no, and that's what I told her.

But wait a minnit. Why was I saying no? It was because of unreasonable fears. They are her kids every bit as much as they are mine. A trip to the birthplace of the nation would be fun and educational for them. And I would have four nights and three days without kids or ex-wife. I could watch shows I want to watch. Do things I want to do.

Perhaps even (gasp!) go on a date!

So the next day, I call STBEW, and admit that I was being unreasonable. She had every right to take the kids there, and that it was a good idea, and that I should have said so when she first brought the subject up.

That was on Thursday. Friday night I come home after working two jobs. The kids had the week off, so STBEW was watching them at my place. As she's getting ready to go, she casually remarks "...and my sponsor just got her drivers' license, so everything's set for the trip."

dingdingdingdingdingding

That was the sound of alarm bells. Waitaminnit. "She just got her license? You're driving to Philadelphia, one of the least driver-friendly cities on this continent with a woman who's just started driving?"

"No, she's been driving for a while."

"You're going to Philadelphia with a woman who's been driving illegally?"

"No...she had her learners permit."

The conversation went on for a while following our old format--I ask a question, and she gives a vague answer, an incomplete answer, or an accusation. From what I can glean, her sponsor has had a learners permit for fifteen years, or maybe not. STBEW is not a bad driver, but she's not very good in pressure situations. And she couldn't read a map to find her way out of a bathroom. I expressed my concerns for the safety of our children.

She called me a hippocite. Her reasonings are very instructive.

I am a hippocrite because Lt. Trouble drives 90 mph. If I'm ok with him doing that, then I should be ok with her taking the kids to Philly.

By the way, I'm not ok with him doing 90. But he's doing 90 in a car that he scupulously maintains, on mostly flat, straight desert roads that exist three time zones away and he's fucking 24 and a cop and what can I do about it anyway!!!

I can't control what happens to Lt. Trouble. However, I do have much more control over what happens to the two kids upstairs watching cartoons in my bedroom. Now I must figure out how to exercise that control.

Arg.

It's amazing how quickly my life can turn into a circus.

Yeharr