It is after 10 on a Tuesday night.
I’m usually at least thinking about going to sleep by now. I haven’t even taken a shower yet. My back feels like there’s a knife in it and my right elbow is furious with me.
We’ve been taking care of last minute details all evening. Tomorrow our house is officially for sale. We have 4 showings scheduled already just from the “coming soon” thingy our agent set up. He expects quite a few more requests tomorrow.
I’ve learned a lot. For instance, there are chores that shouldn’t be last minute chores.
I went down to the basement to shop vac the floor one last time when I decided to look up.
The ceiling had a real “haunted house” vibe.
Holy shit, the amount of cobwebs I took down. I was a little afraid that I would awaken a nest of spider demons or something. We’ve had some huge fucking spiders down there. My skin still has that creepy crawly feeling.
The backyard is far from perfect, but it’s at least on the low side of passable.
I did have a weird moment in the backyard earlier.
I had taken the oven racks out to the table on the deck to spray them down with the toxic ass oven cleaner. By the way, this is another “detail” that should have been handled way before the night before.
Anyway, I checked out the tree stumps that never got removed. The two rose of sharon bushes that came from starts from my mother in law’s bushes appear to be dead. Randy’s sister gave them to me after my mother in law died. I felt sad for a minute, but I thought since we were leaving, that maybe it was time to let them go as well.
Then I looked over to the side of the back yard at the tiny little lilac bush.
The lilac bush came from a start from my mother in law. It was a twig. It stayed a twig. It was a twig for a number of years. Then it sprouted a few more branches and got slightly bigger. Every year, I assume it will die over the winter, and every year it comes back.
The lilac bush has never gotten over maybe a foot to 18 inches tall. It’s still only that tall. Only now, for the first time since I planted it 9 years ago, it has tiny little lilac blooms on it.
I’m not into signs or anything. I’m fairly skeptical of people reaching out from beyond, but I will admit, for one brief moment, I thought Bonnie was telling me it will be okay.
Now, I’m going to take a shower and try to fall asleep before midnight.
I am going to finish this post tomorrow night, after all the showings are finished.
I don’t want to wish my life away, but I really wish I had a TARDIS so I could pop ahead a day and see how it went.
Okay, Wednesday night at after 8:00.
Wow, there are so many ways this day could have gone. So many. If I had a choice, the way this day went wouldn’t have been my first choice. I can define how I feel about this day the way my beautiful niece used to rank people when she was very small.
If you were in beautiful niece’s good graces, then you were at the top of the list. If you were not, then you were at the very bottom of the list underneath all the dead bugs.
This day is definitely covered in bug carcasses.
Being barred from your house when all you want in life is to be in your house is fucked up. My anxiety was bad enough that my ability to swallow was affected. And we had no where to go. Randy, Joey and I ended up at a TGI Fridays where I broke down in tears more than once.
We had 10 showings today. So far, from the feedback we’ve gotten, the general consensus is “Meh”. The tree stumps in the back garnered one negative review. We should have dealt with the tree stumps. Also, we somehow should make all the bedrooms bigger.
I don’t think “meh” can help us, even in a seller’s market.
Also, my nerve endings are a bit raw. I poured my heart into fixing this house up. For over a year I was mostly pleased with the results. I think it might be possible that I suck at this.
I woke up with a sinus infection or a cold or something this morning and Randy’s knee is twice it’s normal size. So, that sucks. Then, about 30 minutes before I was set to leave my job for the day, an enormous, gut churning and critical issue was dropped in my lap.
I had to do an upgrade about a month and a half ago. My anxiety was through the roof, but it ended up being okay. Except now I’m finding out over a month later that it wasn’t so fine after all. If I had to rank stressful work situations that I’ve had over the past 30 years, this one ranks first. Maybe first and second. This issue is not resolved. It is identified, but now I have to fix it and it is time sensitive. So, my favorite scenario. Fixing something critical under the gun. Yay. Oh, yeah, and this happening when I’m goddamn sick and trying to handle the stress of selling, or rather, not selling a house that everyone hates.
Then there was the Alfie incident.
The kitties were set up in their carriers. The carriers are super big and could hold a litter pan and food and toys and water. I hated putting them in there for so long, but I thought boarding them would cause Alfie even more stress. Alfie the kitty enjoys change as much as president yam head enjoys telling the truth.
So, he nearly clawed through the carrier. He dumped his water and got cat litter in it which turned into a sort of cat litter cement on the backs of his hind legs. Alfie doesn’t enjoy having his hind legs touched when they aren’t covered in kitty litter concrete, so cleaning him up, thus far, has been fruitless and stressful. Still not sure how that is going to work out, other than I’m going to be sweeping up kitty litter from all over the house before 6:00 am tomorrow.
You guys, I cannot convey how very much an asshole I feel about the kitties. There is just no good way to handle this situation with a highly anxious kitty. Alfie and I get each other when it comes to anxiety. I don’t think Gertie loved being locked up for hours today, but at least she didn’t trash her space like Johnny Depp in a Super 8. We’re getting a big wire cage tomorrow for Alfie so he will have more space. Also, as of right now, there aren’t any back to back showings, so hopefully we’ll get longer breaks through out the day.
Also, Brett, our real estate agent, encouraged us to put knobs on our kitchen cabinets. Tonight, after the last showing was finally goddamn over, I got a glass out of the cabinet for some water and I got my finger stuck between the knob and the cabinet and pinched the shit out of it. It hurts to type the letters “I”, “O” and “M”.
All in all, a shit show of a day.
Here’s to hoping that Thursday is better. For all that is fucking holy, it has to be. Spare me a good thought.
Or better yet, tell me something funny. This is a challenge from me to you. Because I think it’s going to be super hard to make me laugh tomorrow.
Also, this kind of solidifies my stance that signs are bullshit.