If you’ve read this bit of the blog-dom for any length of time, you will know that I was a Professional Realtor for over 32 years. I set appointments to show houses, held homes open, sold and sold some more. Also, if you’ve been reading this drivel of late (yes, it is too drivel, I know I wrote it, but thanks, xx) you know I am now selling my home and moving across the country, hence the title because now I am the person being called at eight on a Sunday morning to set up a showing appointment for noon.
I did know what to expect, honestly, I did, but it is so much harder than it seems from the other side of the mirror. The need to always been “showing” ready I understood but didn’t quite get how much work that is when you are still quasi-living in the house. I did have sense enough to remove all but the most basic of furniture, not wanting to be polishing tables at midnight for that nine in the morning showing but crap getting up and running the vacuum before you’ve had coffee is just mean. I am beginning to believe some divorces start with that For Sale sign in the front yard, I know I am considering dumping the raving boar (or maybe I really meant pig) that screamed at me this morning about divorce while I vacuumed and tried to get his (expletive deleted) moving on the stainless steel sinks. Oh, did I tell you I am OVER stainless steel? More on that bit of knowledge at another time. We had five showings on the house today and our broker feels we will get a good price if we don’t kill each other prior to the close of escrow.
No, I am not writing because I’ve been working on this house, getting it ready to sell and then cleaning and putting away the last of the things to keep it showing ready. I am also not writing because my “office” is now on the floor. Just the time it has taken for me to write this piece has both legs asleep and my knees are saying words that I promise you I did not teach them. My back hurts from leaning over to read what I’m typing and I can’t get into the proper mindset to even work on formatting the novels currently completed much less create complex emotional scenes (except for the killing scenes, those I can currently write like a professional killer) that make up my novels and works in progress.
Sorry, dear ones, I am not a good person just now! I promise to think of something nice to say very soon, probably about the time we get this house into escrow. Rant over! Ciao my sweet ones! xx