Trying to get my house ready for the first showing today, I was under so much time pressure that when I went out on the deck to shovel off the snow, I didn't put on shoes. I went barefoot!
Now, I'm exiled from my own house while three sets of prospective buyers check out the place. And I'm so frazzled from all the last minute tidying that it seems hard to order a cappucino, carry it to a little table here, and read my email. Really, I've used all my physical energy for the last month getting my house ready to put on the market. Before I decided to sell my house, I wanted to get the whole place in order, but I never had the mental focus to use the physical strength I had. With the economic incentive, I've had all the mental focus I need, but I keep reaching the end of my physical stamina. But today, I had to bring it all together and went way beyond the point where, on other days, I would have stopped and rested. I put the pieces of a king size bed together, single-handedly, including attaching a headboard and moving the mattress back into the room I just had painted. And the painter was just remarking about how heavy that mattress was. And he had another guy helping him move it out of the room. Ah, well, I need to just pause and feel good about getting it all done.
You know, walking around in the snow barefoot isn't so bad. It's kind of fun, really. Didn't the Scots go barefoot in snow? I think they did. Anyway, it made me feel some connection to my Scottish ancestry.