It has been three and a half months since I last posted, right before the shit hit the proverbial fan. I am the type of person that has to have a resolution before I feel comfortable doing much talking about a situation. It's probably due to all of the sitcoms that I watched growing up, where every problem that the characters had were resolved in a 30 minute episode. (My Dad always used to comment on how unrealistic they were) I'm writing before there's a resolution because this morning I realized that I'm starting to feel myself climbing into a hole of negativity; I'm having a difficult time continuing to believe that I'll be okay once this situation is over and I have a bunch of doomsday scenarios running through my head. I've done a lot of work in my adult life to get away from this negative thinking and I'm determined not to regress back into this mindset. I'm writing now because it's the only thing that I could think of that I could do immediately and possibly feel better about what's happening. So here goes.
I bought a small condo at the ripe old age of 23, very shortly after earning my teaching credential. I give full credit to my Dad for helping me make this wise decision: rents were insanely high and it actually made more sense to buy than to rent, but I never would've figured that out on my own. And I never would have had the down payment without a loan from my Dad and step Mom. I lived there until I was 29 and engaged, when I moved 25 miles north, which was more of a middle ground between my job and MSTBE's. I tried to sell the condo but the timing was awful. This was right when the housing market started dropping. So I decided to keep it as a rental. I've been a landlord for eight years now with no major complications.
At the end of May this year, I decided to sell it. I've been renting a house for a while now and feel that it is time to buy a home for my kids and myself. The money that I get from the sale will act as my down payment. We went into escrow quickly but set it up to close on or before September 30 as that was when the tenant's lease was up. I was hopeful that with four months advanced notice, the tenant would move out sooner and we'd close during the summer. Boy, was I ever wrong.
Instead of moving out early, she stopped paying her rent on August 1. This was actually a blessing in disguise. (More on that later.) I had authorized my real estate agent to offer her the month of August rent free if she moved out by the thirty first but we never heard back from her confirming that. There were other things going on with her; I was getting regular calls, texts and emails from neighbors in the complex and the homeowner's association about very erratic behavior and the police had been called on her numerous times. I didn't trust her. On August 24 I posted a three day notice to pay or quit, the first step in the eviction process. I left her a message that day telling her that I didn't want to proceed with the eviction process and if she moved out by August 31, I wouldn't pursue anything further. I told her that I was simply protecting myself. Later that day I got a threatening voicemail.
Needless to say, my tenant did not move out on the thirty first and I hired a lawyer. The chaos around the complex escalated. September was an incredibly stressful month for me. Then, all of a sudden toward the end of the month, the complaints ceased. The neighbor upstairs, whom I'd been friends with the entire time that I lived there, texted me and was actually concerned about the tenant. Her car had been sitting unmoved for over a week with a note taped to it. In the middle of a heatwave, the windows in the condo remained closed and the air conditioner was never turned on. My agent went over to do some recon and learned that the tenant was in the unit but wouldn't open the door, claiming that she was sick.
A few days later, we were scheduled to be in court for the eviction judgement. I was more nervous than I'd been in a long time as I walked up to the courthouse, up the stairs, and down the hall to the courtroom. I was looking around every corner, waiting to run into her and for her to verbally attack me. Or worse. In fact, I was so paranoid that I made myself believe that someone was following me as I drove to the courthouse. My tenant had told me that her Dad had "goons" following her and I adopted some of that irrational paranoia, thinking that those goons were going to create an accident and cause me to not make it to court.
She didn't show up for the hearing. I won the judgement by default. My lawyer said it would be 10-15 days before the lockout date was scheduled. (Remember that timeframe; it'll come up again).
When we learned that the hearing was scheduled for September 30, we requested an extension on escrow through October 30. The buyer agreed. I called the lawyer's office regularly to follow up on the timeframe and the steps that had to be taken before the lockout. First, the court had to issue the request for a writ of possession. That usually happens the day after the hearing. I called a week after the hearing and found out that the judge had let the paperwork sit on his desk for the entire week and the lawyer just received it. I was told we were now 10-15 days from the lockout. "Wait, the lawyer told me 10-15 days after the hearing?!?!" I called a few days later to find out if the writ had been sent to the sheriff. The assistant told me that they had to send the writ back to the courts because the clerk forgot to put the judgement date on it; that it might take three weeks to get it back. I was in such shock and outrage that I hung up the phone, defeated. I called back a bit later after having had time to think about it and was ready to insist that this mistake not hold up the process (and cost me three weeks of rent!). Before I even had a chance to start making demands, I found out that the document had already been delivered and that it would go to the sheriff the next day. Clearly the receptionist didn't know what she was talking about. This was now around October 19th. On this second phone call, I asked the lawyer for a timeframe. I'll give you one guess about what he told me... 10-15 days! Are you kidding me?!?!
The next day, I called the sheriff. It took some work but I was finally able to get a hold of a real person. She told me that the lockout is usually done about a week after the writ of possession is posted but that it all really depends on the deputy's schedule. She told me that evictions have priority. She also told me that the sheriff would call me one day before the lockout or maybe even the day of the lockout. Again, I was a bit stunned by the information and hung up without asking questions. A day or two later I called back. This time it took more work to get to a live human but the person that I spoke with was more helpful. I told her that I'm a teacher and I can't just get up and leave work with very little notice. She told me that she would get a message to the deputy for me. For the remainder of the day, I was anxious and had a hard time focusing on teaching. I kept my phone, ringer on, by my side, which I never do. In the early afternoon I got a call from a number that I didn't recognize and got excited only to find out that it was a doctor following up on a request that my doctor sent for routine genetic screening.
The second call that I got that afternoon was the deputy. I left my students, mid lesson (I had explained a little bit to them about what was going on beforehand), and found out that the sheriff was expecting an ugly lockout. He had scheduled it for two days from then, on October 29, and he had spoken with the tenant earlier that day. He said that she was determined not to leave. But he was firm in that he was going to get possession of my property that day.
All that I could think about for the next day and a half was the entitlement of my tenant. What made her think that she should just be allowed to live in my property for free? I'm not her parent or even her friend or relative. Why does she think it's my responsibility to provide for her? And did she have no guilt about the amount of money that she'd already cost me?
The morning of the twenty ninth, I left my house at least ten minutes earlier than I needed to. I was a ball of nerves. I was hoping that there was no reason that I needed to be in the vicinity of the unit when they physically removed the tenant, that I could wait in my car. I didn't want to see her. I didn't want to know if things went poorly or if they went easily. I simply wanted to know when she was out so that the locksmith could change the locks.
As I pulled into a guest parking spot five minutes before I was scheduled to meet the deputy, he called. They were waiting in the parking area a bit further down. There were a total of three deputies and an adult protective services agent. I handed the deputy a key and he asked if I wanted to wait in the car. Ah, what a relief. I said, "Yes, yes I do" in such a relived tone that the guys all got a chuckle. I walked back to my car, locked the doors, and used my phone as a distraction. Shortly afterward, the deputy called and said that they were in, that the tenant wasn't there, and that the locksmith was already working. He suggested that I come inside.
When I walked up, I had feelings of both disappointment and relief. I was disappointed that the tenant had left all of her belongings; I could tell that she had a lot of stuff but I didn't understand the magnitude until we moved all of it that weekend. I was relieved that there appeared to be no physical damage to the property. The locks were changed and I went home to decompress after what was another very stressful day. Later that day, I got a text from the upstairs neighbor. Someone in the complex had seen the tenant walking around, carrying the eviction notice. And that is the last that I've heard from her.
In the next day or so, I feverishly called around to find a moving company but then got so many offers of help from friends and family that I decided we could move it all ourselves. I wasn't expecting the tenant to claim the property and knew I wouldn't get much for the junk at a garage sale so I wanted to keep costs down. Legally I had to store the property for 15 days and then post two advertisements about a "public sale," at least five days apart.
Here's where things get messy again. On Friday night the tenant's father contacted my real estate agent saying they wanted to collect her things. I told them that we were already set to move everything on Sunday and my cleaning lady was coming in Sunday afternoon. Since I didn't trust them to follow through on their word, I told them they either had to move it all on Saturday (so that I could check Saturday night and still move it Sunday if needed) or they had to use the movers that I had previously scheduled for Sunday morning and pay me cash in advance. I was even going to pay the difference if the move took longer than expected. Initially, the Dad agreed to pay $500 for the movers. I cancelled the Uhaul and rescheduled the movers. Within an hour he changed his tune and said he'd only pay $400 and that I had to make up the difference. Are you freakin' kidding me?!?! This human being is not my responsibility!!! I have two beautiful children of my own and I don't need to take on anyone else's responsibility. So I told him to fuck off.
We spent nine hours packing and moving all of her things into storage. Nine hours. With seven people. As I had been calling around for storage facilities, everyone suggested a ten by ten unit for a 700 square foot one bedroom condo. The last place that I called happened to have a ten by seventeen on special at the cheapest price of all that I called. And it's a good thing. We filled that thing to the brim along with a full dumpster!
Believe it or not, this wasn't the end. Sometime around Tuesday the Dad contacted my agent again, saying that he wanted the belongings and that I was required to allow him access without him having to pay. It's too bad that he didn't Google the law before he decided to blow me off in the first place. I put him in contact with my lawyer who ensured him that he needed to pay me back for moving expenses, storage expenses, and even for our time spent moving. I haven't heard back from him again.
I still have the garage sale ahead of me, moving all of her belongings out of storage, trying to get enough money to cover my expenses, and throwing the rest away. Half of the storage unit is filled with what I consider trash. I will be paying a junk company to come remove all of that. But until this last Thursday, I thought we were going to have smooth sailing.
Sometime in the middle of October, we moved the close of escrow date to November 5. But the lender kept delaying the appraisal. We were going to get them in there two weeks before the eviction but they didn't want the buyer to pay for it until the tenant was out for fear that she wasn't going to get out. Clearly they have no idea how an eviction works. Did they think that she'd be able to stay in there indefinitely even though I already had the judgement? So we pushed the close date to November 20 and the appraisal was done about a week after the eviction.
Fast forward to Monday, November 16. We're expecting loan docs to be ready. My agent calls the lender several times Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. Finally, after no response, he drives to the lender's office on Thursday. Turns out that the buyer has a tax issue and he needs to refile for a previous tax year. The lender claims that this will take 45 days. I'm freaking out at this point. The buyer has been in a tough spot because he had to move out of his previous residence on the fifth. He's desperate to move into my condo and rent back. But I've been advised from a friend that renting back should be a last resort. Even before that advice I was hesitant to rent back. There are so many ways that it could go wrong and I just can't deal with more trouble here.
Thursday afternoon the lender said that the buyer was so desperate that he'd have first month's rent and security deposit to me the next day. But then nobody returned my agent's phone calls all day Friday.
He and I brainstormed Friday night. I'm basically screwed. My CPA said that realistically this could take three months. If that's the case, then I'm going to be in the market to buy a house for myself in February, right when the market is picking back up. Right now, in the off season market with prices a bit lower than they were in the summer, I can afford a house. Barely. Literally if prices go up at all, I won't be able to. The only other option is to find a new buyer. Well, it looks like we either oversold it or prices have just gone down. There's another unit listed for $6000 less, same floorplan, more upgrades, and it's been sitting on the market for a while. So in this option, I potentially lose $10,000 or more by finding a new buyer, which also won't work because I barely have enough for a down payment as it is. I'm screwed.
The plan that we came up with on Friday night was this: we will meet with the lender tomorrow. I may or may not attend depending on the feel that my agent gets when he speaks with them in the morning. We will set out a list of expectations that need to be met, otherwise we cancel escrow. Among the many things on the list are that they need to tell us exactly what the tax issue is, we need to speak with the CPA handling it, and I need to confirm the timeline with my CPA. If either CPA thinks the process will take more than 60 days, we're cancelling. In addition, the buyer needs to give me two months rent as a deposit (because now I know that that's how long an eviction takes) and he needs to pay my per diem, the exact amount that I'm paying including taxes on the condo. Lastly, the buyer needs to switch to using our lender.
My life is in a holding pattern that is completely out of my control, once again, and just when I thought that this mess was over. I'm really struggling with feelings of' "Why me?" and, "What did I do to deserve this?" Logically I know that I didn't do anything, that none of this is my fault. But my heart is hurting and I don't know how much more of this I can take. The thought of not being able to buy a house for myself and my kids is devastating. Knowing that the irresponsibility and unprofessional behavior of others has possibly taken me from a place where I could to a place where I can't is beyond frustrating.
I'm trying really hard to keep myself positive and to realize that there might be some good that comes out of this. For example, had my tenant not stopped paying her rent, I wouldn't have known that she wasn't intending on moving out. I would have carried on, thinking that she would move out on September 30, and this entire process would have been pushed back more than a month. The missed rent was a blessing in disguise. I'm hoping that there's some light at the end of this sad, dark tunnel and I'm hoping that it involves a house.
