Ahhhhh

This is the first weekend in nearly 2 months that I've had nothing to do. Ok, so I have yet to do my taxes and the house could use a good cleaning, but for the first time in nearly 2 months, I don't have to go to my SIL house and clean, pack or otherwise work.

I feel almost guilty. Almost.

I'm not sure what to do with myself. I've done abolutely nothing all day. I woke up late and spent a gorgeous day in the house. Rick came by and dropped off a handcycle that I plan to ride. Rick and I have tentative plans to run the NYC Marathon this year. He's done it several times, I've never done it.

We'll train when it gets warmer. Right now, however, that involves too much exercise on this glorious, lazy day.

and the asshole surfaces

After weeks of no contact and then third party contact telling us to go fuck ourselves, The SIL from hell shows up here at our house.

I'm getting ready to feed the dogs and there's a pounding on the front door. I knew Deb was going shopping so I figured she had her hands full of groceries and couldn't reach the bell. I didn't think twice and opened the door.

In walks stupid, asking what's going on, when she's going to get money and what's happening with storage. Fucking bitch. I should have thrown her out.

Without yelling, which could have turned violent - she's pretty fucked up and volatile - I told her we were pretty pissed that she didn't do a damn thing to help during the entire process, that she told us to go fuck ourselves (didn't deny it), and that her attitude, behavior and zero effort made everything that much harder. I also told her that Art, the guy we hired to do most of the cleaning, will probably charge her for packing and moving her shit, that we packed piss-soaked clothes because we were told by her to "pack everything". I told her that several pieces of furniture that she expected were in the dumpster because they either fell apart when they were moved or were so soaked with rat/mouse/cat piss that there was no way we were putting them in storage. I was pretty damn civil for what I should have said. For her part, she stood there and listened.

I also told her that she looks like shit, is angry and nasty and the only reason she's living in a cleaner environment is because she was forced to move, that if she wasn't forced, she'd still be living in squallor and filth and it's not normal. I told her about the women's center having free counseling and of a friend who offered the same free help. What she does with that information is up to her, but at least I put it out there. I want her to get the help, but I'm sure as hell not going to hold her hand for it. Christ, it's everything I can do not to tell her to go fuck herself and that she's made our lives a living hell.

I was good. I did my mitzvah for the day. Now can I go get a drink?

The closing that didn't

I hate lawyers. I really do. They all have their place in the world, my father was a lawyer, and I wouldn't be here without him, but ultimately, I hate them. They make the simplest things in life so fucking complicated.

The house was finally completely cleaned yesterday. Nothing left, floors laid bare, save the rest of the dust. The weekend was the final push of moving furniture and boxes to storage and cleaning (I'm still sore). Yesterday the absolute last of the moving and cleaning was done. We were supposed to go to closing today and have check in hand.

Then the lawyers stepped in.

Deb's parents had a lot of medical problems and not a lot of money. They let bills go to collections, leaving liens on the house. We knew this and planned to pay off as many as needed and get lien releases from all debtors. There was one bill where a small claims judgement was made in 1989 for $280. 1989, folks. Small claims statutes end after 10 years so it should have been written off. Despite the obviously small amount (including interest, not even $800) and the fact that the included court costs were $20 - practically guaranteeing it was small claims - the paper didn't say small claims, but Superior Court. A Superior Court judgement is open for 20 years.

Ok, so we need the lien release signed from the debtor. One problem. The company that won the settlement NO LONGER EXISTS. Therefore we couldn't get a lien release. The lawyer that represented them DIED 2 weeks ago. Despite a month of letters, faxes and phone calls, his firm never got back to our lawyer.

So we're sitting around the table, and after a lengthy phone conversation with their title company, the buyers' lawyer decides that since they plan to flip the house before fall, they can't go ahead with this sale with the lien on the house. Our lawyer pulls an asshole move and while talking to the buyers' title company, refuses to go ahead if they don't accept his wisdom that it's small claims and should be closed.

They walked away from the table pissed. We walked away from the table pissed. The real estate agent walked away pissed.

Yes, their lawyer is doing her job and protecting her clients. So is ours. Their lawyer is picky as hell, ours pulls an asshole power move and gets caught.

After they left, Deb went back in and somehow convinced our lawyer to dig deeper into the aforementioned closed company. Initially he didn't want to overstep the other dead lawyers boundary, but fuck, he should have done that after a month of no responses. In less than 10 minutes, he located one of the doctors that was part of the defunct company and agreed to pay him what was owed, theoretically resolving the entire issue. Deb thanked him. I told him I wish the phone calls had happened a half hour ago.

With any luck, we go back to the table before the end of the week and sign everything and BE DONE WITH IT.

I hate lawyers.