Hey, I just realized I haven't posted in this piece of shit since we moved. We are back in Pearland! Not that anyone gives a fuck. I am alone in a sea of electrons, and whatever. Anyway, we moved. We sold our house, and bought a new house. That process was routinely horrendous. We ended up selling our house in San Antonio to the first person who offered, who was a pathological liar. Her and her father low-balled us at first, and said they needed to move in within 2 weeks. After we rejected that offer, they waited two months and gave us a slightly better offer, and said they had to move in within 3 weeks. We rejected that as well. Then they waited another couple of weeks, and asked us what our bottom line was. We gave it to them, and they accepted it, except they also wanted our sectional sofa. Apparently, they don't really understand what "bottom line" means. We said no to that, and then they finally accepted our true bottom line offer, and gave us a month to vacate, which exposed all of their previous deadlines as lies.
After we closed in San Antonio, we started looking in earnest in the Houston area. The Clear Creek school district is worth about $30,000 more in sale price than nearby districts, which tells you all you need to know about the fucked up state of education in this country. Since we don't have kids and we intend to stay here until we retire, we opted to eschew CCISD and look in Dickinson. Dickinson is a melange of bible-thumpers who were born there and immigrants and transplants who can't quite afford the Houston school and property taxes and the school district premium for houses (like us). It's not the ideal location, but it is close enough to work and doesn't cut too deep into our finances, so we should be able to deal with its eccentricities.
We found a neighborhood and a builder we liked, and they had a spec house for sale. The lady who was there when my wife first saw the house said all kinds of things about getting modifications and changes done, such as extra tile and a screened porch. Then after we brought our real estate agent in to meet the sales manager, suddenly it was "this house is being sold as is, no changes." The sales manager for this subdivision is a uniquely unpleasant 30-something woman who has fake tits and likes to work out obsessively. I dubbed her Boobzilla. We immediately went over Boobzilla's head to get what the other lady was promising, and after much passionate beseeching, we got them to take a cashiers check to rip out some carpet and install new tile. Boobzilla seethed, which was fine with us.
Finally, after all that drama, we closed, and my wife is painting the entire house. We may actually move in one day, who knows.
Generally speaking, life pretty much sucks right now. We still spend our nights in my father-in-law's crappy roach-infested rental house with one toilet. My sister-in-law used to live there but moved out more than 8 years ago, and left the place in a state of blight that post-earthquake Haitians wouldn't tolerate. My wife cleaned out most of the filth before we moved in, but it's still pretty disgusting. It doesn't help that we have two dogs and two cats who contribute to the decrepitude just by existing.
As for the job, it seems as though I have arrived at a point in my career where I am too expensive to do actual work, and the various powers that be would prefer that I manage others, and thus better earn my salary by taking a position that is harder for them to fill. It's pretty stupid how that works, since I am very productive at doing actual work, but I would be horrible and counter-productive as a manager. It's as if at my age and experience level, they think my work will not be valuable enough to justify what they are paying me. The problem is, they hired me to do actual work, but they are not giving me much to do, which is the worst case scenario. I kind of wish I would get offered a management job just to stay busy, although I know I would ultimately fail at it.
Well, that's all for now. Life continues, unabated.
After we closed in San Antonio, we started looking in earnest in the Houston area. The Clear Creek school district is worth about $30,000 more in sale price than nearby districts, which tells you all you need to know about the fucked up state of education in this country. Since we don't have kids and we intend to stay here until we retire, we opted to eschew CCISD and look in Dickinson. Dickinson is a melange of bible-thumpers who were born there and immigrants and transplants who can't quite afford the Houston school and property taxes and the school district premium for houses (like us). It's not the ideal location, but it is close enough to work and doesn't cut too deep into our finances, so we should be able to deal with its eccentricities.
We found a neighborhood and a builder we liked, and they had a spec house for sale. The lady who was there when my wife first saw the house said all kinds of things about getting modifications and changes done, such as extra tile and a screened porch. Then after we brought our real estate agent in to meet the sales manager, suddenly it was "this house is being sold as is, no changes." The sales manager for this subdivision is a uniquely unpleasant 30-something woman who has fake tits and likes to work out obsessively. I dubbed her Boobzilla. We immediately went over Boobzilla's head to get what the other lady was promising, and after much passionate beseeching, we got them to take a cashiers check to rip out some carpet and install new tile. Boobzilla seethed, which was fine with us.
Finally, after all that drama, we closed, and my wife is painting the entire house. We may actually move in one day, who knows.
Generally speaking, life pretty much sucks right now. We still spend our nights in my father-in-law's crappy roach-infested rental house with one toilet. My sister-in-law used to live there but moved out more than 8 years ago, and left the place in a state of blight that post-earthquake Haitians wouldn't tolerate. My wife cleaned out most of the filth before we moved in, but it's still pretty disgusting. It doesn't help that we have two dogs and two cats who contribute to the decrepitude just by existing.
As for the job, it seems as though I have arrived at a point in my career where I am too expensive to do actual work, and the various powers that be would prefer that I manage others, and thus better earn my salary by taking a position that is harder for them to fill. It's pretty stupid how that works, since I am very productive at doing actual work, but I would be horrible and counter-productive as a manager. It's as if at my age and experience level, they think my work will not be valuable enough to justify what they are paying me. The problem is, they hired me to do actual work, but they are not giving me much to do, which is the worst case scenario. I kind of wish I would get offered a management job just to stay busy, although I know I would ultimately fail at it.
Well, that's all for now. Life continues, unabated.