The Last Six Weeks

About 40 years ago, Marty Sunshine's parents saved every last penny they had, shoved their five kids into the 1963 Ford Falcon station wagon, left their single-wide, which is (still) located 50 miles North of the US-Mexico boarder in the middle of nowhere, and traipsed over to that great amusement park in Anaheim for a vacation of a lifetime.

As the story goes--and I have confirmation from Marty and three of his siblings (the youngest was still a baby and didn't remember)--about an hour after arriving at said theme park, Marty's father came down with a case of the stomach flu and instead of letting his wife and children enjoy their day, he insisted they all leave, hang out at the hotel while he threw up and then promptly drove them home the next morning.

And thus, a life-long obsession was born.

Looking back now, I realize how much more simple and cheaper therapy might have been. Instead, Marty's (and now my children's) idea of a vacation involves Walt and the Mouse. I have fought this for years and finally decided:

1) my kids like it, we all have a good time, they won't be little much longer and there really is something magical about going into the Happiest Place on Earth for days on end,

2) as long as the trip is paid for ahead of time (generally with the commission from my most obnoxious client at the time--this year it was a Canadian couple who got a sweetheart of a home, $70k under market and then proceeded to tell me how "incompetent" I was--even though they wouldn't have gotten this home without me because it wasn't on the market) and in no way does any of it go on the credit card I will be somewhat ok and

3) Marty's Uncle Sunshine lives on this really cool island off the Gulf coast of Florida. Seeing him, the island and having a place on the beach to unwind and relax isn't all bad and makes up for the over-commercialization of Orlando.

When we set up this vacation, we were somewhat strategic. We knew it could very likely be our last big vacation for a while. When one is in the midst of financial ruin, a lot of things get to be put on hold--like vacations.

The major byproduct of this trip was that I was able to relax, something honest and brave friends told me (repeatedly) this past spring I needed to do. Loosing homes is not very relaxing. In fact, it is very stressful. How do people purposely not pay their bills? I will never know. I have spoken to many folks over the years who didn't pay me what they rightfully owed and didn't blink twice. Some told me I was a "nice" person as they personally stole from, as if sweet-talking will somehow make their debt magically disappear. After the last six weeks of fielding calls from mortgage companies, I can assure you, it doesn't work that way.

Our vacation ended three weeks ago. I am no longer relaxed, though I am not as crazed as I was back in early April. However, I am stressed. Even baseball isn't comforting.

In an effort to diffuse the monumental pressure I am feeling, I am caving. With the exception of very few and select people, I am keeping to myself. My social anxiety is running rampant. I am staying off Facebook completely because reading my cousin's excessive posts--even from 3,000 miles away--about how she has a new haircut, how much she loves children and how she needs urgent prayers for her neighbor's puppy even stresses me out.

I am not making apologies for staying away from others. My true friends understand this is what I do when I have had enough life in my day. Extreme caving is a new sort of self preservation, but it is keeping me able to function in my daily life. And that is necessary because my real estate clients truly don't understand or appreciate "caving." I need a balance.

That said, we are entering a new season of our Accidental Business. What it will look like a year from now, I do not know. I do know Marty and I have a new business we wish to pursue in the next three or four years--depending upon how long it takes to clean up our current mess. But for now, the Alabama homes are still around, whether or not I like them to be. And I have to learn to cope with this new normal, because I can't vacation forever.