September was a month of mopping. Any given day in September I used a mop more than my cumulative lifetime of mop opportunities.
I am now a mop master.
October was a month of physical and mental recovery. Also a month of struggling with the SBA. I am incredibly grateful for the assistance they provide. But. It would have been nice if they had just mailed me the packet so I could get it all done. I had to keep going back with one thing at a time before my case worker would mete out the next form. I get that some people need that sort of hand holding but it ultimately delayed me being able to access funds by three months, and cost me all of my remaining vacation time to go to the SBA center. Still, grateful for the loan.
I learned you can't borrow money against the equity in your house after your house is destroyed.
I learned that banks won't work with you on the best way to rebuild a property. My rent house is a total loss that should be taken down to grade, but I literally cannot get a demolition permit because the bank won't release the lien because the house is my collateral on the loan. I never thought I would walk away from a mortgage but the best financial decision I could make is to walk away. I'm still in it only for the moral reasons, the behavior of the bank is completely irrational. I put the thing up for sale to see if I can get out with my cash on hand, but otherwise I'm going to have to let the bank just deal with it. Not only would they not allow me to demolish the ruined house, they also forced me to get insurance for it. That's right, I got to pay two thousand dollars for wind insurance for a house that is worth zero. Never buying a house with debt again. Absolutely no fucking sense. Because a bank refuses to acknowledge that the collateral was wiped out, I'm going to have spend almost twice as much to rehab it. We're talking, replacement of every wall, exterior and interior, most interior studs, all the electrical and plumbing, all floors and ceilings, all the HVAC, the roof, the windows. There might be some framing above the 9' line that is salvaged. Total bullshit.
November I got nervous about colder weather so I rounded up some buddies and my family and we put the exterior wall insulation back up in my home, which is good because Houston froze-the-fuck-over and my little indoor tent has been nice and cozy. I also tried my hand at drywall in the kitchen where it'll be hidden by cabinets and such and learned I'm terrible at it and that it is actually really difficult to do it. Also if I did my whole house the house would look like shit, until the last room when I finally learned what I was doing, and then I'd have to redo it all.
So I hired a contractor to do it. He couldn't start right away. Would get back to me in January.
December was a real struggle. The stuff I feel like I could do on my own is all done. The tent has started to feel claustrophobic. I missed alot of the Holiday stuff because I don't have appropriate clothing and didn't want to be that terrible reminder of awfulness all the time. Aside from work I mostly just laid on my bed at home watching netflix, trying not to think about it, just reminding myself that it will get better eventually. Saving my money, staying frugal. Trying to be grateful.
My contractor died in January. My situation is stable but I'm feeling increasingly stretched. Most of my clothes have tears in the arms from snagging sharp edges on the way from the tent to the restroom. I got pretty sick there for awhile and missed some work.
The sudden freeze killed the avocado trees outside I'd managed to rehab after the flood.
Throughout it all I am reminded that I'm still really well off. Makes me feel worse though. Walking outside and seeing all your neighbors are similarly suffering and there's nothing you can do to help, I don't even have a word for that feeling.
I was thinking about it today, about where I was at vs. where I'm at now, and how angry I am, and I thought about how much worse it would be if I hadn't spent years practicing living on nothing. Years spent learning just exactly how quick I could save up large sums of money. So that I can know there's an end in sight. I can know that this is temporary, and not just a permanent reduction in my standard of living.
I go out of my mind with despair if I let myself think of anyone less fortunate than me. This was an unmitigated disaster for me, it's totally unrecoverable if you were borderline in the first place. You'd be in pack-your-shit-move-someplace-new territory.
Tonight I'll meet the sixth contractor I expect to never hear from again.
There's a coworker that was similarly wiped out and he's about the only person I can still stand to be around at work, mostly because we can go to lunch and just sit there not talking. We both understand. It's objectively a shitty situation, sort of irrelevant that other people are also hurting. I wouldn't wish this on anyone. I'm just as frustrated that this happened to others as I am that it happened to me. I'm furious at how the assistance is handled. I've had to meet an inspector at my rent house over a dozen times "validating the damage." It's like, what. the. fuck. Take a picture and share it with your friends, do you really suspect fraud?
Ran some preliminary numbers and it looks like I get a full refund on my 2017 taxes, which is handy, as I stopped all pre-tax contributions after the storm to get my hands on as much cash as possible.
I don't really know how to find contractors, seems like everyone good is busy, and all the prices are sky high to boot.
Waiting it out seems like the right thing to do...but it feels like every day is hell and getting worse.
I'm just saving up trying to get through it, the only way out is through. I really wasn't built for this though, I want out.
At work everything has normalized. I have to act like everything is OK. "If that were me I'd have had my whole house fixed by now," is perhaps the most helpful thing I hear on a regular basis. Indeed, I probably could have thrown cash at the problem and been done.
I'm starting to wish I had.
I'm in mourning for the dream I had of early retirement. I can't imagine ever feeling secure enough to stop working now.
One day at a time. It's surreal cleaning a toilet in a ruined house. Like, your house is legit ruined, but you still live there so the maintenance activities have to start up again at some point. Mopping the floor again because it's been awhile. It's bare concrete but it still collects lint and dirt same as the carpet did.
At least I don't have a wife or kids I'm putting through this.
Flood is just the worst.
I'm OK though, I'll survive.