Unreal Estate

Yesterday was a successful day. Two long-looming problems were solved to everyone's satisfaction and relief. By me.

Yet, the hen-pecking nature of life won't let me relish the contentment for one full night. Nope. New problems nag and niggle at me. It's too early and too late to be awake thinking about the red tape of existence in a 'free society.'

I have indignation constipation.

For the sake of anyone reading this I won't go into detail because who wants to read frustration at Christmas. Geez Louise, I don't even want to know about it let alone write or read it.

Suffice to say I'm reminded of the Matrix, a film I should watch several more times. There's a scene (and I'm sorry Matrix fans that I will probably butcher it in my sorry recollecting) where a guy (see? I don't even remember his name...) orders a steak in a restaurant. He says he knows it isn't real, that it's an illusion, but he enjoys the pleasure of it anyway. He doesn't care that it's unreal.

I don't enjoy living in the city, in the 'civility' of society. It feels like prison. While running errands on Sunday, Tom and I were discussing how the city seems benevolent and yet when the hologram shivers a little you see the stern reality behind the facade. It's benevolent as long as you follow the rules. One hairy toe over the line - aka questioning authority, independent thinking, or managing your own affairs - and you pay.

"Your helpful original ideas are not wanted. Get in line, Sheep." That's how it feels.

We own our home and property, right? Hmm. What does that even mean? (Oh no, I'm getting into it. You'd better go somewhere else. Listen to John Denver sing about Christmas in the post before this one...scroll down... warning, warning Will Robinson!!) I'll keep it short. Our neighbor and we agree that we want to adjust the property line four feet to right a mistake that was made by a surveyor and the city decades ago which leaves an unsatisfactory, to the both of us, situation. We are in complete, friendly agreement. Four feet. No utilities will be effected. No landscaping, just four feet of lawn. He wants to do it. So do we. Future home owners will be better off if we do. Win-win, right? No, the city wants us to pay nearly three thousand dollars to acquire documents for them to peruse in order to decide whether or not to give us permission. Permission! To alter four feet of personal property which will actually bring the two properties up to the city's code, a choice we are making on our own. The city planner even told Tom, as she researched the properties with him sitting right there, that it all looks kosher to her, but we have to follow procedure anyway, and pay the permit fees. $650 for permission alone - to buy and sell four feet of personal property. If on the off chance some city yahoo denies the permit, we are out thousands of dollars. For nothing.

Is it just me? Is this perfectly okay? Am I merely turning into a curmudgeon?

Mind you, the three thousand dollars doesn't include the price of the land.

Red. Tape.

Indignation constipation.

I just want to go to sleep.

I'm going back to bed.

Maybe I'll solve a few problems tomorrow and find a more regular mind.