Thursday, August 12, 2010

For Sale and Stuff

It's been hectic lately...we officially listed our house for sale on Monday, had our first showing Tuesday, and the offer we made for the new house was accepted last night. I am a Property Virgin, so this has all been very new and gut-churning. My left eyelid has been twitching like mad, which is fun because it's a tic visible from the fourth ring of Saturn. Yay, twitch! Get on down with your funky, twitchy self!

Ours is a "starter home," and we've invested a lot into making it more appealing. Still, there is work that remains--so how do you word that in a marketing pitch? "Yeah, try to look past the walk-through bathroom upstairs that some yahoo did a piss-poor job installing. It wasn't our idea to cut that hole in the drywall near the toilet tank." Or we could pitch it like we're running a relay race: "Exterior's finished. Ready to hand the interior remodeling baton to lucky lil' you!"

There's only so much bouquets of flowers and freshly-baked cookies can hide. Cross your fingers for us.

Just five minutes after we returned from the realtor on Tuesday night, we were visited by two smooth-talking salesmen selling home security systems. (Wow! Check out that alliteration!) It was my Advanage nightmare all over again, when 30 minutes later I found myself hypnotized at the kitchen table, filling out paperwork, nodding my head in a daze and speaking slowly: "Yes...of course...I agree to all terms, including the sale of my left kidney. Why yes, you may garnish my wages. I would be glad to move to an Indian slum and personally stitch all of your future polo shirts." Luckily, Jason was there to snap me back into reality. It was a close call. We usually don't even buy underwear without researching it to death online first.

It's amazing how far things can go when you are a conflict-avoiding, trusting, people-pleaser. I still have no idea how I worked in a prison for nearly two years.


  1. I always use the insane Wombat clause.
    "SORRY" bark bark bark
    "I'm not interested in" Bark bark bark - insert irritated, haggared, snarl from me at Wombat, which I make sure to transfer onto the sales person.
    "New siding! YES, I know" bark bark bark
    "That it looks like crap. Good bye!" bark.

    Also - I won't open my screen door. That really puts a dent in their pitch, when they can't hand me paperwork.

    But I'm not nearly as nice as you are!!

  2. You worked in a prison? Really?! Do tell!

  3. A conflict avoiding, trusting, people pleaser. My God Jess, we should hang out way more often! Add all that to the reasons I like you so much! :) Good luck selling your house. Look forward to seeing the new one.