2018-12-05 - 4:48 p.m.

F. Wit's the name, don't wear it out.

I don't think anyone can see my diary right now and frankly, I think I prefer it that way since I have what amounts to a HUGE personal fail to report:

I tried to buy a house, and couldn't get financed.

The reason I couldn't get financed is dumb.

I have to wait at least a year and a few months before I can try again.

I should have known this would happen, and I should have taken steps to prevent it.

I found out that I'm a fuckwit yesterday. I guess, deep inside, I knew or suspicioned that I could be a fuckwit, but was trying not to think about it in hopes it would go away, I guess. I don't know what the hell I was thinking.

I had finally I found THE perfect home on Sunday, after searching for it for roughly 14 months, stretching way back to the last year when I realized I would be moving to the Ozarks. I wanted a place that had a view, a deck, nice stuff inside..."that" kitchen, a gas stove, gas fireplace and plenty of privacy. I found it on Sunday, and I shook on it with the owner. Monday, I made the deal on paper. Called it "my house". Very narrowly crowed about it on Facebook. (I did, but briefly and vaguely. Thank heaven.) After signing, I went on my way, squealing with gleeeeeeeee, talkin' 'bout "my house", feeling relief that I have somewhere to go when my landlord boots me from this house and moves himself back in after Christmas, feeling SO relieved that I had found a home that so perfectly suited all my desires and needs, and that I wasn't settling...just breathing a huge sigh of happiness, relief and joy. Wheeeee.

Then Tuesday, I requested the mortgage loan and found out that they don't give those to fuckwits.

I could blame a couple people for this situation. Oh, yes, indeed, I could.

However, I saw a sensible meme yesterday (how timely) that says you're only a flabby loser when you start to blame other people for YOUR mistakes. And this, at it's core, is MY MISTAKE. I know full well what the rules are. They are: if one does not do what one knows must be done, if one takes the easy route because it is easier, if one tries cutting corners in an effort to avoid harshing their preferred groooove...one ends up in some shit.

My life isn't ruined but I sure as hell didn't want to move twice. I sure didn't want to rent. And I SURE AS HELL didn't want to see that perfect home ripped out of my hands and given to someone else who will now enjoy instant hot water throughout the home and hand-shaved, hickory flooring and a deck that is beautiful and perfectly positioned so one can enjoy the view of the many deer who graze between the mature trees in many colors that will never be cut because the land behind the home has a ravine running through it and is unfit for development.

I went to view a rent house today. It smelled like a hot diaper.

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