Brace for Impact

Kohl’s curbside pickup.  Space #2 around 5:30 pm yesterday.  I was the woman screaming, rage swearing, pounding on my steering wheel, and then ugly crying with my head in my hands.   I knew people could see me. I saw the looks of concern. I saw the sideways glances. I’m sure it was alarming. I didn’t care.  

Our old roommate signed the waiver behind our back.   The one we told her not to sign under any circumstance.  The one the lawyer we spoke with told us never ever to sign.  The one that states that no matter what happens nobody can ever be sued for their involvement in the claim or the quality of workmanship that may happen. (The contractor who has yet to start work but has already proven to be shoddy and half-ass as he surveyed water damage unrelated to the fire.) And in so doing she intentionally undermined us,  disregarded everything we told her, disregarded the reality we meticulously explained to her, and then she lied to us about it for a week. 

Let’s back up.

Last Friday I spoke to a lawyer and she was awesome and smart and all the things I love about a good listener but she made it feel a lot worse because each possible route she laid out was complicated, expensive, and emotionally exhausting to think about.  I shut down on Friday night. Empty. Then my body shut down on Saturday with a migraine and I slept all day.

Sunday I woke up and S and I started to talk the situation to death.  We added several more scenarios to the list from the lawyer. We kept talking each option through “And then.. and then.. and then.. and then…..” with most situations ending with her broke and me putting more energy than I have into it. The only way out is to complete the last two pieces of demo under “our responsibility”  and then the association will allegedly start the work under the claim that was approved 9 weeks ago.  

We went to visit our old roommate and gave her the updates. We walked her through each scenario. It was important to us to demonstrate to her that we weren’t blowing this off or minimizing it and that we had exhausted the options. We told her we had spoken to a realtor who believes we can sell it today. AS-IS. And there is a high probability that she will come out AT LEAST 100K  AHEAD if she does. (The fix it and sell it scenario has her coming out 0-30K ahead. This is a no-brainer. I am a genius. We get everything we want and we save money and there are no more fights with the association and the property manager and she makes a good chunk of money and I cross it off my list for good and put my energy back into our business). We told her we were there because we wanted to share the updates right away and that the realtor was walking the property the next day and running comps and would share a recommended list price after that.

But if I sell it where will I live?

Well, you live here.

I hate this fucking place.

Well, when you sell you have options but you first have to sell.

No. I am moving back to my townhouse.

What? No. No. Ma’am.  You aren’t going back there.   It is ridiculous.  It isn’t smart.  It isn’t safe.  It is, in fact, insane.  You do not need 2800 square feet. The stairs will kill you. And you already told us multiple times you were going to sell anyway.  Selling now actually lets you move forward and allows you to not keep bleeding money on rent and your mortgage and association fees and two utility bills and storage, etc…

But I am going to live there.

But you will be completely broke before it is ever done.

No I won’t.

And then I was forced to say to her “If you wait the 9 months or so it will take to complete this rebuild it will cost you THIS MUCH (insert number here) money.” She held eye contact and said nothing. “Do you have that much money?” Crickets. (Because that number is for sure more than she has). “You don’t. We all know you don’t.”

I don’t care if I finish the whole thing. I don’t care if I live in the garage. I am going back.

I can’t even react to the absurdity of living in the garage. She has fallen 4 times that we know of in the last week in her apartment and that she is currently nursing untreated broken ribs as a result. Stairs are not an option.

So with the silence that followed we changed the subject to her vaccine because I do believe she is being tough and she needs all that to sink in. And I do believe that for a senior with no internet it can seem very overwhelming to get a vaccine. And I already know that she is avoiding calls from her doctor for some reason so…. I told her I was going to get her vaccinated with a J&J Vaccine within the week. (WHICH I DID BECAUSE I AM A BADASS).   I called her the very next day with her appointment time and we spent several hours in the car together on Tuesday driving to a Thrifty White in Waseca.  Cute little town. Lots of Mexican restaurants there.

S called her T night,  and Wednesday, and Thursday to make sure she wasn’t sick from the shot.   Of course, she feels great.   Things seem fine and we start to dread the upcoming weekend because we know he has to do the final demo of the flooring and the 3rd level bathroom.   I don’t call in time to get a dumpster and that just makes it worse.   But we have to do the demo before the association just does it for us and then charges us a shit ton of money.   And we know this is expensive and S is willing to put in the time to ease the burden.   Even if it means not seeing us all day. And even if he gets madder and madder the whole time he is there because he is constantly paying the price for his mom’s terrible decisions.

Sunday was the day he spent over there and on the way home, he called to check in on his Mom.

You better not be tearing out my new floors.   I signed the waiver last monday.

 And my beloved amazing husband hung up on her. CLICK. End of conversation.

 We have done nothing but put in the work and search for a way to keep her safe and protect her savings and we have spent days and days and months working and researching and budgeting and going back and forth with the association and their bullshit property manager and in the last week I have chosen kitchen cabinets and confirmed lead times and we have measurements to complete the order and I have looked at no fewer than 300 viable property options for her to buy and rent in the cities and  I even went to look at one in person because I thought if we had an option for her to buy she would be more incented to move and that would move things forward and what do I love more than anything? (Moving things forward.)

But the entire time she had already signed the waiver.

The entire car ride to Waseca – she had signed the waiver.

In every conversation last week with S - she had already signed the waiver.

When S gave her the update from the realtor on the suggested list price - she had already signed the waiver.

Secretly. Deliberately.

She has completely intentionally undermined us,  has used us,  has disregarded our advice,  the advice of counsel,  the advice of an incredible realtor… and just done what she wanted to do.   She has intentionally chosen the most complicated and most expensive path and the one that will cause her to end up broke and likely in the hospital. 

And we are done.  DONE.  WE. ARE. DONE.  

There is no taking her calls and there is no more energy or action or effort.  Any card or letter will be marked return to sender. She is cut off. She decided what to do without us and she can do whatever she thinks she needs to do to work through it.   I have been in an unhealthy relationship before and I know how good it feels to walk away. S has grown up inside THIS unhealthy relationship and he walked away from it for years. I will not allow our time to be wasted for one more second. I will not allow my efforts to be ignored. I will not put up with the inmate running the asylum. She can run it into the damn ground or die trying. We are done.

But… that is irresponsible and our hearts are too big and we all know that at some point we will need to re-engage. So I feel like I should just enjoy this big pause. She needs to be scared. She needs to attempt to manage it herself. She needs to feel a sliver of the pain of the enormity of the situation that she faces.

I was thinking that this is how a person must feel when the car they are driving plummets over a cliff. There must be several moments of complete freedom as they realize that never again will they need to deal with the horrible crap in their lives.. . all the while knowing there is a devasting crash on the horizon that they can do nothing about.