I realize that the only things that have been posted here recently are scheduled posts — mostly featured crochet items or patterns for my shops that aren’t even currently open — however, I desperately need this blog for what I originally began writing it for. Although it was lost under a sea of YouTube videos and random posts about goodness knows what, I intended this site to be a place to tell my story.
Hence, The Nerd Wife’s Life.
And, oh boy, do I have a story to tell today. The past couple months have been a living hell for me. One event after another kept crushing my life under a sea of confusion and eventually fear. I went from happily sitting in my living room on a daily basis, attempting to get through my first earnest attempt at a novel, to sitting in my husband’s childhood bedroom floor (no home of my own to be had) contemplating how hopeless my situation felt.
How does this happen in only two months?
It all started when my husband came home from work and told me he had a chance to take a business trip to Utah. Keep in mind we’re currently living in Virginia, so this would be a radical journey for my husband and his fear of flying. I’ve always told him that if he had a chance to travel, I wanted him to take it without hesitation. I pushed him to take the leap, even after he broke the news that he’d have to leave less than two weeks after learning of the trip. He’d miss Halloween, my favorite holiday, and our seven year anniversary since we officially declared ourselves a couple way back in high school (yes, for those new here, we are high school sweethearts and going strong at three and a half years married), but I felt it’d be worth it for him to have this experience. I never want him to live with “what ifs”.
Although I was scared to be alone (I have severe pernicious anemia that isn’t very responsive to medication. I go through periods where my mental capabilities closely resemble those of someone inflicted with dementia. I can as likely forget to eat as forget to turn off the stove), I sent him off to the Rocky Mountains for a five week business trip. The first couple of weeks weren’t too horrible. I kept myself busy by learning some new cooking tricks and trying to make progress with my writing. The task was made slightly difficult by the very distracting hobo who was trying to fuse himself to our couch at the time. However, the friend needed a place to stay and I loath the idea of leaving someone without a secure place to lay their head (a fact that makes my laugh until I cry now….or is it cry until I laugh?). With a mixture of hits and misses on the food front and nightly phone calls from my love, I was surviving rather happily.
Then the bomb dropped.
Our landlord stopped by to pick up our rent and, with barely a hint of an apology in his voice, gave us our thirty days notice. Wait, what? Yeah, you read that right. Without any cause other than the fact that he and his wife wanted to move into the property they were currently renting to us (plus our good friend who rented the upstairs of the duplex), they evicted us. We had a lease our first year there, however when it was up he didn’t mention us renewing it or increased the price of our rent. Jesse and I didn’t bring up the subject to him in case we decided to move into a bigger place (a concept that would have been years out and would have taken a lot of planning and saving). We were good about paying our rent, kept things clean, and gave no reason to be evicted so what did we have to worry about? Boy, do I feel like an idiot now.
Note: Even if we did have a lease, it would have been up in February. I have a feeling, with how everything played out, they would not have allowed us to renew the lease and would have evicted us from the property anyways.
The couple assured us that they had a couple new properties that they were renovating and they believed they’d be perfect for us. They’d give us an amazing deal on them to help make amends for the situation they put us in, after all.
We had planned a life around that house. We were going to have our first child there. We had grown accustomed to the budget the amazing rent their afforded us. We poured a lot of money into the landscape. It was the first place I ever truly felt at home in. But in a simple whim of this couple, it was all taken away.
Two weeks later, Jesse came home to the chaos of a life falling apart. We agreed on one of the houses the couple offered, on the terms that they’d allow us to have our cats and a discounted rent price if we helped paint it. Between painting, packing, Thanksgiving, husband’s birthday, and no more than three hours of sleep a night, the remainder of our thirty day notice passed by. I started to feel my mental stability begin to fray at the edges. The end was almost in sight! We still had a hitch in our move, however. We were required to be out of our home on December 13th but the new place wouldn’t be ready until December 21st. What’s a week and a half with all of our things split between three different places (since we spent all of our money on moving out and had nothing left to rent a storage facility — remember that we didn’t have enough time to budget for our move) while we crashed at Jesse’s father’s house?
After three very long days of moving, we found ourselves back in the exact same place as we were before we found our home. The two of us, exhausted and at our whits end, stuffed into my husband’s childhood room with three cats and a mountain worth of desperation and depression. I was injured and my husband was sick.
Now, you’re caught up to today. Only two days after removing the last box from our home. The man who evicted us, asked us for labor in return for a new home, and pushed us to all new levels of hopelessness, dropped another bomb on us. He sent a text to inform us that he changed his mind and was no longer allowing us to have our pets and, in addition, he was going to charge us a large deposit and more rent than promised. Basically, since he knew our situation, he put us in a position where we were no longer able to rent the house.
He left us with no where to go, making his assurances that he’d make things right for us useless and hallow.
Let me tell you how I see this situation. Between our home and our friend’s home in the apartment above us, we were this man’s two cheapest rental properties. He claimed that he wanted to move into the property he was renting to us due to its proximity to his son and grandchildren, however their house is on the market and in the process of being sold. He also told me that their decision to move into the home they were already renting to us was made right before they gave us our thirty day notice, despite the fact that their house had been on the market for a long time.
It will not be a surprise to me if, after renovating the house, they relist the home they evicted us and our friend from at a higher rental price. They also squeezed free labor out of me to help renovate this other property that they’ll now be able to rent for a high price as well due to fact that they went back on their agreement with us.
So now here we are. No where to go. No where to call home. Luckily, we have a place to crash for now. However, there’s a big difference between crashing somewhere and having a home — especially around the holidays. It’s starting to feel as if there’s no where to go. No place we can afford, especially being wiped out. There’s a chance we’ll have to move out of state and away from our family simply to put a roof over our head.
Our lives have been flipped upside down and I can’t see how it’ll work out for the better. I mean, for goodness sake, every time I think “This cannot possibly get any worse,” it continues to get worse.