Tim got a wild hair, just as Tim tends to do. He found a house.
I said, "Well, you need to go look at it the inside before you get all carried away with yourself." (Right hand to God, I figured that the inside would be a disaster because the roof looks wonky.) Since he's working on a house right now, with another house waiting to be worked on, I knew that he would not be wanting to sign on for another project. So I thought I was safe.
He happily gets on the phone with 'our' realtor, and makes an appointment for 10 this AM.
This morning, I went off to work, reasonably confident that nothing would come of this.
At lunch time, I called home, prepared to say something to the effect of 'well, things work out the way they do for a reason,' or 'it just wasn't meant to be' or some other comforting (and totally insincere) platitude.
I caught Tim on the roof of a house. I said, "So did you meet with Ron?" and he cheerfully said, "Yes I did."
I began to grow concerned at his cheerfulness.
"It looks really nice," he says, "but there's a little glitch."
A little glitch? I began to feel hopeful again. He continued on. "Yes. Two properties are being sold together."
I said, quickly, "The house next door?" (because it is vacant, and I don't understand why it is not a blighted property). "We're NOT buying the house next door," I said, preparing to dig my heels in.
"No, no, no. You've got to buy her beauty salon."
"A BEAUTY SALON????? WHAT!!!!!!!!!!!! I DON'T WANT A BEAUTY SALON! NO!"
Tim said, "Someone wants the beauty shop. I'll tell you all about it when you get home."
I hung up the phone and headed to the microwave to heat up a lunch that I'd suddenly lost my appetite for.
If there is a 12 step program for Tim's addiction, it probably leads to the front door of an old house....and the steps probably need fixed.