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.
March 8, 2006
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23 comments:
Can't say I've ever gone barefoot in the snow, but I've gone in my Birks. (With no socks.) I like cold feet.
Try it! It's fun.
Answer to the question why didn't the painter put the bed back in the room? I thought I was going to be able to get someone to remove it from the house altogether, and having it in pieces would have made that easier. It was my misjudgment.
Friends who have put their houses on the market have spoken to me of the weird sensation associated with being exiled from their own homes. That's got to be strange for you, especially since you've lived in your current place for such a long time.
Mark Daniels
I think getting a house ready to sell and going thru all the crap associated with it til it closes and you have the check in your hot little hand is one of the most stressful things in life. I hope I never have to do it again. I don't envy you.
athenius said "Well, I think our ancestors ALL ran around barefooted once upon a time."
But didn't they invent shoes before they got too far north? Maybe not!
I found out after I got back that 5 sets of prospective buyers came through in the 3 hours I was away. That seems like a good first day.
I don't mind being exiled from my house, but it was hard today because I was so tired!
I think that whole exiled-from-one's-own-house-while-it's-being-shown thing is kind of new. I remember twenty and thirty years ago seeing houses with my parents while the sellers were still at home. Sometimes the sellers gave us tours, sometimes I played with their kids, sometimes they just sat in their living room and watched TV. (We looked at all kinds of places and I can't believe many of them were FSBOs.)
If I was selling my house, I doubt I could resist the urge to pretend to be a possible buyer--just so I could hear what people were saying.
I love going barefoot, but I don't like walking indoors with dirty feet. Even a little bit. So I have pairs of sandles by all the doors so I can either wear them outside, or wear them inside on my way straight to the shower.
Well, you can always do nothing and sell it "as is".
The Scots never went barefoot. They have great hosiery; silk stockings, nylons, lederhosen etc.
Never go out without your nylons!
Sheer engergy. Nothing beats a great pair of leggs!
Peace, Maxine
Ann: How pressured can I possibly be?
Obvious Answer: Not very, since you are apparently lounging around watching television.
You have no idea what stressed is if you think that selling your house is incredibly stressful.
Ah, the charmed life.
NosyParker that I am, I went on line and searched for the house. Now I've seen the piano you talk about -- it is a striking looking instrument.
And I had to laugh about the decorations above the fireplace, given the long discussion about your parents' vinyl. The one in the bottom left was the first album I remember my older sister buying, before she got into her Moody Blues phase.
Good luck selling! It's a very de-cluttered house. And your hardwood positively gleams!
Mr. Welch: I told you exactly how stressed I am. Enough to walk around barefoot in the snow. No less, no more. Enough said!
chuck b - haha, well if you're pretending to be a potential buyer, that is one thing. I prefer when owners are absent while I check out a property. I want to be able to freely discuss it with my agent as we go room by room. I don't feel comfortable saying something like, "Do they have pets.. What is that smell?", if the owners are there.
btw - what is FSBOs?
Anyway, it made me feel some connection to my Scottish ancestry.
Pfff.
When you paint your arse blue, and bend over and wave it at your potential buyers, then you'll be connected.
Cheers,
Victoria
FSBO=for sale by owner
Ann, my heart goes out to you. Others may feel that the process of getting a house show-ready and then being exiled while potential buyers wander through is not too stressful. It's true, I can readily think of some things that are more stressful, but selling a house definitely makes my list of "very stressful situations."
I've listed properties four times now (resulting in 3 sales), and each and every time was a unique torture. It is true what they say, too: location is everything.
With any luck you'll net a buyer quickly, and won't have to go through too many more periods of exile. Best of luck to you!
Pfff.
When you paint your arse blue, and bend over and wave it at your potential buyers, then you'll be connected.
Speaking of connected, vb, you posted without putting a link to your blog. Feeling a tad disconnected? Or, have you just run out of blue paint?
Speaking of connected, vb, you posted without putting a link to your blog. Feeling a tad disconnected? Or, have you just run out of blue paint?
Thanks for reminding me!
Theme Party
A friend of mine is turning 35 this April, and when he said he was pondering a themed party, I said:
Hey, why not a 1980s nostalgia party?
So far, I'm coming as Molly Ringwald, but I'm open to suggestions.
Cheers,
Victoria
Perhaps you would consider this a Lenten devotion?
- here's hoping you turn a nice profit
Ruth Anne: I hope I'm done now. If I had to go on like this for weeks... Horrible!
Ann,
Years from now (or maybe sooner) you're going to look back and realize that this was one of the great "transition" points of your life, and that this was about a lot more than the house. It's about the good times, bad times, hopes and dreams, special moments, people, and more. It's normal to be emotionally overwhelmed (and fatigued) at times like this, and that's why you need to be especially kind to yourself while all this is going on.
Thanks, Ricardo. Yes, the move already is massively symbolic to me and represents a vision of how I want to live.
Thanks, Ricardo. Yes, the move already is massively symbolic to me and represents a vision of how I want to live.
Wow, I had no idea that it meant to you so much.
Based on this touching admission, I withdraw my objections to your move to a mod-com condo.
Good luck.
Cheers,
Victoria
Historical moves and relocations throughout history:
--Pioneers seeking Westward expansion in their covered wagons.
--Katrina evacuees scattered and seeking shelter.
--Ann, with an urgent need for better cafes and shops.
Hey, why not?
Peace, Maxine
P.S. I'm kidding. Really!
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