The latest event in the house saga has me feeling jostled around like a rider on a roller coaster -- up, down, lean left, lean right, and try and hold onto your lunch.
On Friday I was planning to cancel the old contract, transfer my escrow, and make a new offer on the purported house of my dreams. (Key word: purported.)
Then my realtor called with the latest development: the seller did not want to accept a new contract (and rightly so) because there is a problem with the house's title and they are not sure how long it could take to fix it. They may even have to take the house off the market while they figure things out.
At this point we don't even know what the problem is. But the mortgage meltdown is still having ripples and consequences and messing with the economy. (Big banks and greedy bankers and crazy buyers, I'm looking at you!)
Meanwhile . . . I have started looking at other houses again. We did some driving around yesterday afternoon and identified a handful of likely candidates. Maybe among them is one I can actually buy.
I hate to be a quitter, and I really, really love this house. But there's also that boring thing called reality. Even I know you can't buy a house that's not for sale, no matter how much you love it. And if you stay on too long, even the best roller coaster in the world stops being fun.