Tick tick tick tick

That's the clock, ticking already, on the stuff I have to get done on this house so I can sell it.

My friend Sue, my real estate agent, came over the other day. She had remarkably good news! There's very little inventory for buyers in my community, so she's confident our house will sell quickly and the price she gave us was good, too! So that's all good news.

The bad news? Well, it wasn't surprising, but there are some things we have to get done to put it on the market. Most of them involve removing any trace of humans living in this house.

I asked her, "How offensive are toys?"

She said, "Very offensive." She has a daughter, she means no disrespect. It's just that buyers don't want to see toys every where they turn when they're looking at your house. Apparently, this even includes buyers with children!

So you can see, this poses a dilemma. Do I simply take everything we own to my parents' house while I'm selling this house? Do I find ways to organize it that somehow don't include jamming the closets full? She said I have to clean out my closets, too! They have to look spacious. That'll be a feat, considering they were designed in 1935 when people didn't have clothes to store. Or shoes.

So I'm going to put together a master list, and I'm going to house it on my sidebar where I can cross things off as I finish them. Operation Home Improvement. Except, in this case, the end goal is to actually unload the house.

I bought this old bird when I was single. I had written a letter to the little old lady living here, expressing an interest in her house, and six months later her daughters called me. This was back when I rehabbed houses in my spare time. I lived in them at the same time, something I only recommend for the strong of constitution. I envisioned this home as the perfect house for a family. After all, the lady I bought the house from had raised six kids here!

Well, life intervenes sometimes, and sometimes love affairs end. My love affair with this house is over. So someone else can step in and fall in love with her all over again. It's a little bittersweet. Either that, or my sleep deprivation has become so acute I am actually getting nostalgic over a home I've detested for years? Either way.

Which then leads to the question on everybody's mind....where you gonna go now, Heather? I don't know. I honestly don't know. I figure I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. I'm confident that something will happen between now and the day this house becomes someone else's that will help me make those decisions. Of that, I am sure.