Hot. Tired. Cranky. Did I mention cranky?

I'm feeling extremely grumpy tonight, for a few reasons, none of them really sufficient for the degree of my grumpiness. Barak took two hours to go to sleep tonight, howling the whole time, and every time I walked out of the room thinking he was out and he stood up and screamed again I felt my nerves fray just a little bit more. After an hour and a half I had completely had it and just walked out the door (yes, my husband was home) and went for a walk around the block, coming back an hour later when he had just, finally, conked out.

Please don't give me advice on getting babies to sleep. I have read all the books and usually I have a system that works, but tonight it just didn't. I don't like letting him cry. I think it's heartless, under most circumstances, and ordinarily I don't resort to it. But tonight there was just nothing else to be done. He was overtired and overstimulated and could not fall or stay asleep, and no matter what I did he howled and howled and howled. In the end, I felt like Hagar, but I just couldn't listen to it anymore. I'd sit and rock him forever, if it worked... but the only way he stays asleep is if he falls asleep in his crib, and he just wasn't doing it. Argh.

Okay, so, for those of you who haven't been around since the beginning, the real estate situation in a nutshell.

Oh, who am I kidding. [Imitating Inigo Montoya] Is too much for nutshell. Let me give in coconut shell.

We put in an offer, a few months ago, for a condo we could just barely afford. Had inspection, which revealed what inspector mildly termed "multiple major defects," of the hazard-to-life-and-limb variety. Withdrew offer. Put in offer #2, on another condo a block away, for ten thousand dollars more. Discovered that there is no insulation in roof, winter heating bills upward of $300 a month set at 65 and off during the day. New furnace needed, and pipes calcified to the point that they all have to be replaced (meaning ripping out walls in both that unit and the one downstairs.) Since after buying condo we would have no money to fix anything, this was not manageable. Withdrew offer and put in new offer for unit below and across building, where pipes are fine and there is an upstairs apartment to heat, not the great outdoors. Ah, and that's where it got interesting.

Because, you see, the seller's agent is both Middle Eastern and a lunatic. One or the other would have been bad enough, but the combination is, well, let's just say it's more than the sum of its parts. He's also incompetent, which doesn't help. He didn't read the contract, thought I wanted a different apartment, didn't notice lines in contract referring to washing machine (apparently owned by tenants) and home warranty (what home warranty?) Has rescheduled inspection three times now, never more than 12 hours before inspection was to have occurred. Oh, and did I mention that inspections cost $400 each, and this is our third go-round, and we don't have an apartment yet?

And there is nothing to be done, because this is absolutely the best thing out there in our price range, and I know, because I've been looking all year. And every time my agent starts to negotiate, he offers to break the contract. Jerk.

You know, I really don't feel like getting into all the gory details. But there is a silver lining to having to redo all the ghastly mortgage paperwork yet again, which is that apparently rates have gone down a titch. And a titch difference in your interest rate, over a 30-year mortgage, because that is how long it will take to repay this horrific loan, does add up to be quite a lot.

I just can't think about money now. How much this will cost. The legal fees and inspection. The washer and dryer and home warranty that we now have to pay. The flood insurance. The movers. Oh, *(*&$%*#$, and the moving, the packing, the heat, the all of it.

Gah.

Why can't we just live in some nice cheap suburb or less expensive neighborhood? Why can't we buy one of the gorgeous old apartments with high ceilings and crown moldings and wood floors and cavernous closets that cost far less than this place, a mere two miles away?

Because we're Jewish, that's why. And the shul is here. And the eruv is here. And the kollel is here.

I really have nothing to complain about. I know this. What, I'm complaining that we're in the middle of buying a nice three-bedroom, 1.5 bath apartment with a fenced yard and parking right near work and shopping and the bus, with a nice big kitchen and lots of light in a safe neighborhood? For slighly less than a quarter of a million dollars?

Excuse me while I go vomit.

You know, I think I am just too cranky to blog tonight.