Basically a metaphor for my #holiday spirit this year due to #GhostDad #DeathAdmin and the Fascisms:

Black Santa presiding over some sparkle on a dead money tree.

Oh. Did I tell y'all?
We closed on #GhostDad 's house last week. Officially wrapped everything (title transferred, money deposited) on Thanksgiving.

We toasted Dad and his janky house over dinner. We loved that house -- and now a single mom will love that house too.

When I'm solvent again (LOL), I'm going to send our realtor some flowers. She worked her ass off to sell that house and kept us on track for three months.

The #DeathAdmin isn't over. But that was a significant chunk.

Realtor: We're in escrow but the buyer said he wants to lower the price.

Me: I will literally curse his entire bloodline.

Realtor: Haha! I'll get his agent to straighten him out.

Me: [venting] Bad enough that he is contributing to the gentrification of a historically black neighborhood. Sign the damn papers!

Realtor: ha! The other agent is Black.

Me: Then he needs to show some Black solidarity and get his client to sign the damn papers.
---
I am not cut out for real estate shenanigans.

#GhostDad #DeathAdmin

In other news, my sister alerted me to some drama developing on #GhostDad 's obituary page. It really upset her, and she wants me to take it down.

SIGH.

I hate ignorant people. Like, who raised you. What is gnawing in your ass that you need to create drama on a dead man's obit page?

So now I'm gonna have to get involved.
Or not.

But I may be in the mood.

Generally, this has been a good week.

Except for The House. Gotdammit just SELL.

At this point I don't even fucking care about price as long as Ghost Dad's debt is covered.

Just remove this albatross real estate from my hands!!

#GhostDad #DeathAdmin

#GhostDad
#DeathAdmin

There are more than several adulting words I'm not familiar with.

I've never bought or sold a house.
Say the word 'escrow' to me, and I'm totally clueless.

Today, our realtor gave my sister and me a fast & dirty lesson in Selling A House As Is. Escrow, contingencies, comps. It's a whole new vocabulary.

My little sister is a hardass about our number. I'm more flexible. I know the market ain't necessarily in our favor and I know Ghost Dad's debt size. So every offer the realtor shares, I'm doing Estate math.

That little green 🏠 needs to do a LOT. But it always has. It raised us. Kept dad sheltered. Gave homes to young gay Black men whose families turned away from them. It just has to take care of our family one more time before flippers tear it apart.

But whaddya know: folks are interested. And our realtor, K, is savvy, honest, and no bullshit. She's treating this like the sale of her career.

She is our anchor.

Oof. Last night was long. Oakland didn't fully stop popping off until 2 or 3. Benson slept in the bathroom all night. Poor guy.

We're both exhausted. So today is going to be a slow reading with snacks day.

I also have to do some #GhostDad Death Admin.

“Is everyone paying attention to me,” I ask.

Wait a second.

“No one is paying attention to me,” I say to myself 6 inches from my children.

#joysofparenting #ghostdad