I am victorious. In a very small matter.
We had an HOA meeting tonight, and I have been dreading it like I can’t tell you. We’re still trying to sell the condo (think good thoughts, please, oh, please — your thoughts are MAGIC), but as a member of the four-member home owner’s association, and as president, I kind of had to go to the meeting.
Well. Okay. You want the truth? The meeting was scheduled for two weeks ago, but I sicked out with a migraine (which I truthfully was fighting) and they rescheduled it, the lousy bastards. I just wanted them to have it and let me know how it went. Weak of me, yes. But I’m human, and I hate the meetings.
Really, I just hate these things. The knowledge that it was coming up has ruined a big part of many hours this last week, and I am SO good at not doing that. But the HOA defeats me. Just beats me down. Or, rather, the Problem Owner does.
We three who are not the Problem Owner are reasonable. We like to make repairs and pay for them. Seems like a good idea. We all win. The Problem Owner just likes to hear himself talk, and he makes things up with such flair that you believe him for a moment. Long moments. You think that you’re going crazy. And then you realize that you’re not crazy, he’s just rambling and doing a good job of it.
Plus, he just pushes my buttons like only two or three people in this whole wide world can do.
But I have to say that I am proud of myself for one thing: I am not a pushover. People think that I am, will even tell me that I am, that I should fight more. But I just don’t mind a lot of things that other people DO mind, so I don’t bother to fight. I don’t care if things aren’t always fair — I know I can’t make them be fair, so why stress out? Frustrating thing is that there’s nothing really WRONG with the place,
we shouldn’t be bickering like this — there’s no need. But he needs
But when pushed, I push back. And I take care of myself and people around me. Tonight, when I thought the two male owners (we are evenly divided) might come to blows, I shut the meeting down. I actually said in the middle of the pointless argument they were having (courtesy of the Problem Owner), "Let’s wrap this up. So, point one was we want to get the deck painted. Point two is we need a permit for the deck work." I went on, finished my wrap-up and said, "Great! Let’s have a meeting next month to discuss that guy’s CRAZY ASS IDEAS." But I didn’t say that. I said, "Great. Let’s have a meeting next month." And we left, no one bloodied.
But I swear, there were ten or so minutes during which I was chanting in my head, "Run. Run. Run. Run." I’ve never run out of an uncomfortable meeting before, but I was actually considering it. So what? Just pack up my notes, smile politely at the two considerate owners, flip the Problem Owner the bird (which I can never do right — Lala says it’s because of my New Zealand half — see Flight of the Conchords) and run home. Never to return.
But I didn’t. Even though my face went BRIGHT red and my heart beat faster and I could actually feel my upper lip swelling (a stress thing that combines with MSG and hasn’t happened in years).
Know what? It’s OVER. And I leave for New York soon. I will be around My People and that damned meeting is over, and I’m so happy. I can’t wait to get on that plane and fly across the country for the love of yarn people. Because I’m not going for the yarn. Can’t afford it while trying to sell a condo. I’m going to see my clan. I can’t wait.
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