Where Do I Start

Life’s a Mess—And Apparently, So Is Our Property Situation

Ever have one of those days where you wake up with a plan, feeling semi-put-together, only to have life laugh in your face and say, “Oh, sweetie… not today”? Yeah, that’s me right now.

Today, my husband and I went to see a real estate attorney about a property we purchased during COVID back in 2021. Fun fact: it’s now 2025, and the title still isn’t in our name. Awesome. But hey, the attorney says we have a strong case—so woohoo! A small victory! I’d throw confetti, but honestly, I’m too mentally exhausted to even pretend to celebrate.

Where Things Get Really Messy

As if that wasn’t enough drama, let’s talk about our other real estate adventure. We sold our home and bought a manufactured home, fully believing it was real property (you know, like a house that actually stays put). Turns out, our Realtor insists it’s personal property—like a couch or a really fancy toaster. But here’s the kicker: we owe over six thousand dollars in property taxes.

Now, I’m no expert, but if it’s “personal property,” then why does it come with a tax bill that makes me want to pass out? Do I get to return it if it doesn’t fit my life anymore? Store credit, maybe? No? Figures.

Can I Just Walk Away?

Actually, our attorney says we might be able to walk away. Which, at this point, sounds delightful. But who are we kidding? If I ever actually tried to walk away from a problem, it would just chase me down the street like a lost puppy. My husband, bless his heart, is looking at me to figure this all out. As if I have a degree in Real Estate Shenanigans & Unexpected Disasters.

And this, my friends, is where I hit my limit. I don’t want to figure it out. I don’t want to be the problem-solver, the fixer, the one who magically untangles every mess. What I do want is a nap, a snack, and maybe a reality where property law makes sense.

Finding My Way Back to Me

The truth is, this isn’t just about legal issues or taxes that make no sense. It’s about me—feeling frustrated, exhausted, overwhelmed. Somewhere along the way, I became the person who fixes everything for everyone else… and completely forgot to take care of me.

So today, I declare: I am officially off duty. If anyone needs me, I’ll be wrapped in a blanket, eating chocolate, and Googling “how to run away responsibly.” Because if life insists on being this ridiculous, I might as well find the humor in it. 😅