I didn’t wake up before 7 o’clock this morning. I didn’t find myself muttering curses under my breath, grabbing my husband’s pillow and shoving it over my head, or begging for a small cell tornado to strike one house away before disappearing.

My neighbor did not wake me up.

By the time I rolled out of bed, happy and in great spirits, I’d wondered if I’d just managed to sleep through her 7 a.m. scream-fest, through the click clack of her stilettos, the slamming of her SUV’s door. I thought nothing of it, really, until stepping outside to look for the newspaper.

Their “For Sale” sign is still there so, just as I do every morning, I breathed a sigh of mingled relief and exasperation. Fourteen months on the market and counting… that’s a lot of mornings I’ve had my hopes dashed by not seeing those big, lovely red letters announcing their place is SOLD. Still, as long as it’s on the market I can at least hope, right?

Parked in their driveway was not the obnoxiously loud SUV I’ve come to despise. Instead, there was an installation van and right then a uniformed man was hauling out a Dish Network satellite from the rear.

What??!

Now, I’ve rolled my eyes as they’ve had a slew of service trucks bring in new appliances and new carpeting. VH and I endured two very long weeks earlier this spring when workmen began ripping up the neighbor’s patio and replacing it with fancy flagstones. We spent many a Saturday listening to the whining metallic drone of saws adding a new deck on the back of the house, and I’ll never forget the day I returned home to find their front door sitting in the middle of their yard which left me wondering whether someone had broken into their house or if I even cared.

These were, we figured, all steps to entice home buyers, including the fancy new front door with very expensive stained-glass inserts to each side. But, hey, as long as they were still planning to move, we figured they’d sooner or later realize there was no point in continuing to add value to a house that was already over-priced.

Today, though, I’m beginning to wonder. Who goes and installs Dish TV if they’re really planning to move? They already have cable — I know, because I’ve seen the truck parked outside their house more than once while they added on DVRs and an amplifier.

Thing is, Dish Network is something that makes people like their house even more. It’s something that makes staying home interesting, fun even. Why go to the movies when you’ve got so many channels? Why rent DVDs when there’s always something good on.

I think my neighbors are toying with me. I think they have no intention of selling that house, really. They’ve been pretending all along to be fixing it up for sale but what they’re really doing is nesting. Settling in. Making it the house they’ve always wanted. And then… then they’re going to break my tired, bitter little heart and take it off the market.

I just know it.

Which, incidentally, only gives me more incentive to keep buying PowerBall tickets: because the first thing I’m going to do if I win is buy their house. Then I’m going to hire myself a very good defense attorney and go have a word or two with my soon-to-be former neighbor and her annoying little stilettos.

Monday, July 23rd, 2007, 10:31 am   |   My Venomous Life  |  RSS feed Comments and pings are currently closed.