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Shadow Writing

Update

The very same moment I found out my house was being sold, I stormed straight into the landlord's office (which is in my building). It was the maintenance man who had told me and before he could mutter something about an apartment inspection, I'd strode past him to get my info straight from the horse's mouth.

The office looked empty until I walked past the public area and started to bellow in a friendly but firm voice..or was I just coming off as irritated and flustered? Well, I remember hearing myself sound rather friendly. The landlord's sister almost reluctantly made her way over. I think I started speaking before she could say hello back. I hadn't meant to do that, but when you've been through the same crap a few times, cordiality starts to lose all function. So I stood there, and a part of me floated outside myself, hearing me exclaim..."I'm not hearing right, am I? Tell me you guys didn't sell the building..I've just been through this.."

The woman shrunk before me, which is pretty tough since I'm 5 feet tall. I was trying to smile slightly and speak in calm tones, but I could feel that all the blood in my body had already risen to my head and that my face was a bright pink.I'm part Irish, you see.Despite an olive tan, I was still born with 90 percent of all my blood vessels underneath my cheeks, nose and neck.

"It wasn't me..It was my sister.." Was all she said. There may have been a few more words, but I don't really remember much after that. I tend to tune out immediately after my inner lie detector goes off.

A somewhat reliable source once told me that this building was a family inheritance. For one to be able to sell, all the family heads listed in the agreement would have to okay it and divide the profits evenly among them. Her sister was obviously passing the buck, but I could hardly blame her. My landlord is just as lousy a communicator.

At about 9pm that night, a very official and loaded down messenger knocked on everyone's apartment door. I got the call while I was at work that each tenant had been served with paperwork that we were all required to have. It was a bundle of court papers as thick as my fist RE a case of Complaint against my landlord from her mortager. They (the mortager) are also suing the NYC Dept of Parking Violations and DEP which, although I am a layman when it comes to law, makes me think that's the mortager's way of saying, "You're not taking her house, because she's losing it to US first!"

Like two fat dogs fighting over a scrawny bone my skinny chihuahua landlord was powerless to hold onto.

So how do you sell a building that you still owe $675,000 on?

That's what I've been wondering. I'm also wondering how sad a financial situation you would have to be in to refinance a gift from a family member and risk losing it that way, if I indeed had my information correct.

Again, not judging. I haven't walked in her shoes. The girl has medical problems of some sort.

Meanwhile, I'm continuing to unpack and organize my abode. My last move left me nearly naked as I was dumb enough to pack most of my wardrobe up in boxes I haven't even gotten to open yet. My theory is, organization is never a bad thing. Even if worse comes to worse and I do have to move again, it wouldn't hurt unpacking so I can repack with some sense and order the next time.

I thought I might buy a label maker. That seems easier than opening ten cartons to find your favorite pair of panties.

Once I'm done making my place mine, I might even have enough room to set up my 'puter terminal again and do a little tai chi. Sure hope I get to stay this time.

I'm just happy that I've had a few nights to swallow this bitter pill and accept uncertain circumstances in a more adult manner. Sometimes this life just makes you wanna' crap your diaper and scream bloody hell. lol

But that doesn't get you anywhere, now does it?