Paraskevidekatriaphobia

It might be because it's Friday the 13th. It might be because of some cosmic convergence of the planets. All I know is, I don't know how much more of this upheaval I can take.
I had a plan. It was a plan thought up by my brother (which makes it reasonable), approved by my mother (which makes it comfortable), and which I had definitely started to feel good about. I'd get a mortgage, buy a condo, have a place to live when Mom moved away. It was a good plan; I was starting to look forward to having a place of my own, a place to live.
That was probably my mistake. I should know better than to feel confident about something like this, to start to think about doing things like buying chaise lounges.
I called my mortgage guy (again) today- he's a little hard to get hold of. Know what he told me? That because I'd only been at my job for ten months (as opposed to twelve), I can't get a mortgage. Basically, this means that I have to find some hole to live in for two measly months, not even bother to unpack my stuff, then apply for a mortgage all over again and move a second time in a three-month period.
This sucks.
I hate moving. Hate it. I moved six times in five years in university- it was supposed to stop when I graduated. I finished school, I have a real job, I live in a big city- what more do they want?
I'm at Hugh's right now- this is one of the first times I've blogged away from home. I'm just glad I went to see friends tonight instead of going home. I don't like saying that- Mom's leaving, and I should be all cuddly and taking advantage of her being around and stuff, but everything's so crazy and high-strung right now (with both of us) that at home I'm either going crazy getting buried in all this stuff, or else I'm holing myself up in my room trying to avoid it all. Neither of these is a good option.
I vented for Hugh for, like, two hours over dinner tonight. It helped- talking to my own private impartial parties always helps strighten things out- but there is only so much better this situation can get, I guess, which is probably why I'm still feeling the need to vent by blogging.
Anyways, I should get back to said friends. Besides, Hugh's laptop is hard to type on.