My Nosey Ass!

I just found out that someone is living in the house we lost to foreclosure.

Yeah, I said it. FORECLOSURE.

I am curious to see who bought it. I am tempted to drive by and check them out. Is that bad?

Whoever you are, you got a great deal on that prime piece of bank owned property. We did not pour cement down the drain, or smash holes in the walls, or take any of the fixtures. We just left. I packed up the things I wanted to bring and threw away a lot of shit I did not want. I purged.

That house never felt like home to me anyway. The light switches never seemed to be where they ‘should’ be. I never cooked a ‘to die for’ meal and we just never seemed happy there. It was just a house. I think it was built on Indian burial ground.

To be able to come back to the first house we bought, was a blessing. They say that God takes care of babies and fools. So, God was like, ‘Let me take care of those fools, because they go them babies’.

We should have never bought that house. We should have just stayed our happy asses right here in this house were are in now. yada.yada.yada.

Shoulda, coulda, woulda but we didn’t.

I still wanna see who lives there now...