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I expect buyers to magically appear

Our ad is now on Zillow and ForSaleByOwner.com, too.  The craigslist ad has generated two emails, one from a property management company asking if we’d rent it and one from a buyer’s agent.  The open house started 90 minutes ago, and we’ve had one person stop by.  She lives in a townhouse in the area (she walked here) and is looking for something bigger.  Which is not us.  She was nice enough, but it’s still depressing.  And yet!  It’s silly to feel this way.  Our ad has been on craigslist for barely over 24 hours.  We didn’t advertise our open house anywhere else.  We have signs at the top and bottom of our street and a sign in the yard.  Why would I expect anyone to know about it?  So.  I’ll get over this right now and enjoy a quiet afternoon.

House for sale – take 2

It’s official (again).  Our house is on the market (again).  The difference this time?

We’re doing it ourselves.  We did the bathroom remodel (floor, vanity, sink, paint), and we’ve gotten rid of more stuff (last weekend included a garage clean-out, more donations, and a trip to the landfill), we’ve rearranged the house (again – the dining room table is back in the dining room and the family room is back to being largely empty), and we’ve CLEANED.  Today, we put an ad on craigslist and bought the sign (and replaced the rear struts in the car, cleaned the house, and mowed the lawn).  Tomorrow, we have an open house.

I hope people come.

Nervous

I’m not afraid of my boss.  She and I see eye to eye on most things, we get along well, I know I’m a valued employee, blah blah blah.  But some days, when she sends me an email asking me if I have a few minutes, or if I can come by her office to talk, I get nervous.  Like I’m being called to the principal’s office.  Like I’m in trouble.  Have I done anything?  Not that I’m aware of, but I’ll start to get paranoid about something small, something that no one would get in trouble for, but maybe it’s something I thought twice about doing.  Not once have I ever gone to her office and found that I AM in trouble, that I HAVE done something wrong.  Will I ever grow out of that?

It was all action, and really good action at that

Why do some beautiful blossoming trees have to smell so bad?  I mean, I’m sure it has something to do with defending against destructive insects or something (and I could google it find out, sure), but the smell really ruins an otherwise lovely walk around the neighborhood.

John and I saw Captain America: The Winter Soldier Friday night, and IT WAS AWESOME.  I mean, really – it was good.  And if you’re watching Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D, watch this movie before watching the “Turn, Turn, Turn” episode.  That episode will make SO much more sense.  You probably already knew that and have probably already done that, but I figured I’d pass that along.  So we got back from the movies, all excited because it was SO COOL, and sat right down and watched that episode of S.H.I.E.L.D.  Sure, it’s not the greatest TV show, but we can’t get enough of this stuff right now.  Hooray for Captain America!

P.S. I love Bucky.

My Saturday

Guys, I was so productive today.  Okay, sure, I slept in, but then I went to zumba and had breakfast with John before he headed off to an out-of-town Springsteen concert, took Riley for a walk, cleaned the whole house, and THEN I sat in front of open windows with a pleasant breeze and did our taxes.  Not particularly exciting for a Saturday afternoon, but it all needed to get done.  And I feel virtuous.  So much so that I will ruin the good of my morning workout and eat my weight in Indian food for dinner out with friends.  And then I will no longer feel virtuous.  But I will feel full of delicious food.

It never ends

We’re being all companionable today, sitting next to each other on the couch with our laptops on a rainy Sunday, and wait a second – does that rain look white?  Is that SNOW?  It doesn’t look like it’s entirely snow, and it’s not exactly sleet – what the hell?  Is it STICKING?  Is the ground white?  Okay, everybody, take a deep breath.  No, there’s nothing white on the ground, but that rain looks really odd and snow-like.  Ugh.

Sorry about the momentary panic. We can move on now.  To some headlines written but never published.

[A couple of hours later.]

We’re back from the gym, and while we were gone, my fears about the weather were realized.  There is now a white slushy ickiness all over the ground.  I repeat: there is white slush on the ground.  In my YARD.  On March 30th.  I give up.

I did it!

I stopped flip-flopping and dilly-dallying and beating around the bush and delaying and stalling and pussy-footing around and dragging my feet and hemming and hawing and lollygagging and finally cut my hair.

Before (this is last June again, but I can’t find any others that show the length):

After:

Partied in the middle (and on my way home from the salon)

Parted on the side. Please ignore the weird smirk. I fail at selfies, and I was getting tired of retaking because my eyes were crossed or I was looking down or making a weird face or whatever. Too hard.

It’s a delight to wash.  I just might do it again someday.

And now I feel old

I was helping a friend from work with her resume the other day, and she mentioned that she was just doing admin stuff for a couple of years after school, and I gestured to the end date of that section in 2007 and said, “so this is right around graduation?” with the intention of telling her that this probably doesn’t need to be included unless it’s directly relevant to the job she’s applying for, and she said, yes, for high school.  And then I stopped helping her.

Okay, I didn’t stop helping her, but I did pause to feel old.  She’s TEN YEARS younger than me.  What am I, her mentor?  Oh, god, what if I’m her mentor?  I thought we were friends…

The bathroom is a bathroom again!

Technically, the bathroom was never a bathroom as it does not and never has had a bath in it.  It’s a shower room.  Or a toilet and sink and shower room.  Lots of things with water, so let’s go with water closet.  The master water closet.  Anyway, it’s done!  Except for some minor cosmetic details like painting the trim and the window sill, but those are minor cosmetic details and so they don’t count and I can say it’s done!  Oh, and the door.  Shoot.  Painting the door is a little more than minor.  I mean, it’s white, but it could be whiter.  No, we’re done!

We’re very happy with it.

 

There’s no judging in yoga

It’s Thursday already.  That’s quick for this week and yet not quick enough.  I was reminded yesterday that yoga is on Thursday nights now, and I’m tempted to go.  I haven’t been since last June.  I probably won’t tonight (I’m practically falling asleep while typing, and I’m afraid if I go to yoga, I’ll just start snoring), but I’d like to put it back into my normal schedule.  Wednesday nights for Zumba, Thursday nights for yoga.  But then I look at having another evening away from home, and I don’t want that.  I like being at home.  It’s restful, even when remodeling projects are going on.  (Speaking of, I promise to take pictures and post them soon.)  And I’m a little afraid to go back – the other students have all continued and, I’m sure, improved, whereas my flexibility has gone WAY downhill.  On the other hand, it’s probably not worse than the first I went.  But, more importantly, who cares?  It’s yoga.  No judging allowed.  Or people will judge you.  (You’re allowed to judge people for judging people about the wrong things.  Besides, judging people is fun.  I mean wrong.  Judging people is wrong.)

Riley has no concern for our feelings

The other night, Riley did everything he could to make sure he was going to get kicked out of our room.  He went to bed quietly enough (on the dog bed on the floor on my side of the bed), but then he spent what felt like several hours making weird slobbery lip-smacking noises with pauses for low groaning.  (He’s been making these annoyed groaning noises a lot – that used to be Roxy’s thing.  Just one more habit of hers he’s picked up.)  Then at 2:30, he decided it was time to get up.  I found this out when he dropped his giant head on my shoulder and stuck his cold wet nose in my ear.  So I got up to let him out (and not let him back upstairs after).  I put him in the backyard.  Usually in the middle of the night, he goes out, pees, and comes right back in.  Was he going to do that that particular night?  Of course not.  I waited a few minutes, and then opened the door again to call him in.  No sign of him.  My eyes eventually adjusted a little, and I could just make him out as a slightly darker shadow along the back fence.  And I could hear him sniffing and snuffling at something.  Ignoring me.  I clapped, and I called, and I rattled the treat box – nothing.  I went out on the deck, barely dressed and barefoot.  Sometimes me on the deck gets his attention.  Nothing.  I was going to have to go out in the yard.  So I went back upstairs, got my shoes, got my coat, and headed out into the yard.  The dog let me get into the very middle of the yard before he sprinted for the deck, giving me a wide berth.  Then he had the nerve to be annoyed when I wouldn’t let him back upstairs.  So 10 minutes of chasing the dog around the very cold backyard in the middle of the night made the next day a little difficult, but I still made it out of the house on time the next morning.  Sleepy, but on time.  But that wasn’t the end of it.  Even though I took Riley for a short walk that morning, then let him upstairs while I showered and got ready for work, and then took him back downstairs to let him out before I left while John got ready for work, he still peed in the dining room after I left and before John came down.  Why?  Why not?

LOVE

I have just fallen in love with a brand of yogurt.  OMG, you guys, seriously.  The company is Liberté, and wow, this stuff is good.  Creamy and delicious.  Yum.  I tried the Méditerranée Strawberry, and I would like some more please.

I’m okay.  Really.

Anyway, after I posted yesterday, we had an epiphany about the pipe problem and the vanity drawer.  Why shorten the pipe (which, it turns out, might require a blowtorch) when we can shorten the drawer instead?  Just not today.  For now, we can live with a drawer that doesn’t quite shut.  Haven’t hooked up the sink yet, anyway.

Drained

It’s a gloomy, chilly Sunday, and we’re putting the new vanity into place and realizing that it doesn’t fit exactly.  We got one that has a cabinet door on side and two drawers on the other.  Problem: the drawers are too deep.  One of the water pipes will keep the drawer from closing all the way.  There’s a solution, of course (shorten the pipe), but it adds complications and time.  I don’t think John was planning on spending his entire Sunday on plumbing.  We spent our entire Saturday on this bathroom (two coats of paint, and we went to Home Depot to buy the vanity and the sink and the faucet and matching towel rod and toilet paper holder).  It would be nice to have a couple of hours of daylight free. On the other hand, we’re so close!

McDonald’s saved the day

Friday morning at work, I was havingaday.  Like, a DAY.  It was nuts, and not in a fun way.  So lunch was french fries and one of those little hot fudge sundaes from McDonald’s.  It helped.  John hates those commercials for chocolates that show a woman taking a break and savoring tiny bites as she gazes out a window onto a beautiful view and so do I, but I have to admit I took a moment for myself when I ate that first bit of ice cream and hot fudge.  Commercials don’t lie!

Sleep is fascinating

At a time when all I really want to do is go back to bed, XKCD delivers a thought-provoking comic that…doesn’t change my mind about wishing I were sleeping.

It does make me wonder a little why ALL scientists aren’t obsessed with why we all go unconscious for hours every day.

First day of spring

I can’t remember ever being happier to see the first day of spring arrive.  Sure, they’re forecasting snow for early next week, but that’ll change, right?  Right?

Maybe I’d be okay with snow if I had friendly penguins to hang out with (thanks, reddit):

Some thoughts on books and e-readers

Actual physical books!  Remember those?  Those things I love and prefer to decorate with?  I read three in late January/early February (three in a ROW, even), but before that (pause while I check…), the last physical-actually-made-out-of-paper book I read was in November. Turns out I read three real actual books in November. Everything since then (and lot before that) has been via the Kindle app on my tablet, except for what I’m reading now (one of the books I kept out when we packed them up).  It appears I got used to e-reading a lot faster than I thought I would.  Boxing up 99% of our books early last fall helped.  It also helps that I can read on my tablet while I’m at the gym.  My tablet has several (well, two) advantages over books at the gym.  First, it lays flat and stays open when propped up on the machine.  Second, I can enlarge the text so I can still see it even though it’s a bit further away from my eyes than it would be if I were just holding it.  I think making the text bigger helps me read while I’m moving so much, too.

I don’t have any other thoughts on the subject.  Nope.  No more thinking.  Ever.  About ANYthing.  (Seriously, I thought I had more thoughts.  Where did they go?)

There’s no way it’ll be this easy

We got an interesting call this afternoon.  Since we took the house off the market around Thanksgiving last fall, we’ve been dodging two or three calls a day from local realtors trying to get us to list with them.  We almost never answer the house phone anymore because it’s ALWAYS a real estate agent.  We’re going to go back on the market, but we’re going to sell it ourselves.  Anyway, I got distracted while working from home today, and I picked up the phone when it rang.  It was someone in real estate asking us if we were still looking to sell our home because she might have some potential buyers.  Hm.  She asked if we’d like her agent to call us.  Sure.  I hung up.  John said there’s no way they actually have interested buyers – this must be another ploy to get us to list with them.  Well, I can get rid of them if that’s the case.  So then we got another call.  I recognized the name as an agent who showed our house once last fall when our regular agent wasn’t available (actually, she didn’t – a junior member of her team did), although she didn’t remember us until a few minutes in.  Anyway, she has buyers looking in our area.  I told her we’re listing it ourselves and we aren’t really ready to go back on the market just yet, but we’re close.  And I said if they’re in a rush, given some notice, we might be able to prep the house to show it to them sooner, but we’ll definitely need notice because we are NOT show-ready now.  I didn’t tell her our master bathroom is still without a toilet (currently hanging out in the office) and vanity.  Hopefully we’ll have finished the bathroom before anyone wants to see it.  If not, well, we’ll just tell them our plan and hope it doesn’t scare them away.  John is spackling.  Then we can paint.  I would really like to have the bathroom back together by the end of the weekend.

Oh, she asked what we’re asking for it.  Yeah…we haven’t really talked about that yet.  So I told her I could tell her what we listed it for last fall, and that we’d probably start in that ballpark this time, too.  Hope that was okay. What am I saying?  Of course it was okay.  These buyers, whoever they are, are not going to want our house.  That’s how this is going to go, assuming this wasn’t some diabolical plot by our former agent to sabotage our For Sale By Owner plans and sneak back in as the listing agent through her colleagues.

There’s just no way.

But wouldn’t it be nice?

Information you need

Wine update:

Once Upon a Vine = good red blend, maybe a little drier than Apothic Red and Stark Raving Red.

Apothic White = yummy white blend, a somewhat sweet (but not too sweet) mix of chardonnay, pinot grigio, and reisling, according to the label.

It’s snowing again, which may or may not have any bearing on the wine update above.  You decide.

And we have grouted, and it is good.

John grouted today!  And it looks great.

We’re off to Home Depot to buy paint and hopefully a vanity.  Yay!

Completely and totally unrelated: we saw a movie called Safety Not Guaranteed the other night (last weekend, I guess).  It’s on Netflix.  It’s a little weird, but cute.  I liked it.  You should try it.