Forgive me for going on about this again today. But this is the kind of stupidity that just makes your head explode.
It turns out Nick's big "we exist!" argument yesterday took place at the Post Office.
The only really funny part is the idea of a man who never, ever has existential crises having an enormous one in a public office.
A number of people got involved. All save one of whom were unhelpful.
Because our house does not exist.
I really would've liked to have seen Nick in action with this one.
"Don't tell me my house doesn't exist! Tell me you don't know what to do! Tell me it's DC government! Tell me it's a new situation for you! But DO NOT tell me my house doesn't exist!"
I thought it was on the phone. With how angry he is recounting it, I know this was loud and public and ugly.
Finally a woman at the PO called our council member's office. They and Nick have exchanged messages. Nick's now out of town, and I've taken over the fight to prove our very existence.
Our mortgage lenders and such cannot have their documents returned with "No Such Address" or whatever the fuck they stamp on it.
I just left a message.
"Hi, this is Lemon Gloria. You and my husband, Nick Gloria, exchanged messages yesterday about our newly purchased property, House Number Street Name - the one the Post Office refuses to deliver mail to because they claim it does not exist. . ."
We are so not naming the kid Ryan.