Barring some last-minute miracle, the sale of our house has fallen through. We'll be putting our nearly empty house back on the market, and we're terminating our contract on the house that we had fallen for. How's that for some craptastic news?
"These things happen," right? Especially these days, it's not unheard of for someone's loan application to be denied. The buyers' agent had led us to believe the buyers were pre-approved, and two months ago, they would've been set. But now? Not so much.
We are flat worn out from these last six weeks of packing and storing, so the idea of moving stuff back into this house is beyond depressing. It's so discouraging to think we've been making all this progress only to take these giant steps backwards.
Yes, this is a "rich person's problem," blah, blah, blah. It still stinks to realize that this limbo, this stress we've put up with wasn't worth it, that we're back to square one.
This weekend we'll get to work getting this place ready to show again, and we'll figure out what absolutely, positively will have to come out of storage and back into the house. In time we'll see the plan God has in store for us, and we KNOW He'll take care of us.
But tonight I'm frustrated. And so very sad.