We sold the house. Pending the signatures on the final paperwork at the closing, scheduled for mid-July, we sold the house.
The first realtor I interviewed said 4-6 months. Karen G____ said she would shoot for 2 months. Hot damn - 21 days!
We are pretty lucky though, the buyer (Jenny) was on her way to sign an intent to purchase contract at a house around the corner when she drove past our open house sign. She was torn for awhile. We were more expensive - the other house had the stainless steel appliances she liked - we had skylights. . . what would she decide. . . sun or steel. . . steel or sun? Oh yeah, it was dramatic. Phone calls late at night - bargaining back and forth, forth and back (okay, only three calls, it just seemed like a lot more because I had to keep pausing Grey's in the middle of all the "I've got to save the baby, tell me what to do!" moments). In the end Jenny made the right choice. Good for her - stainless appliances are way too trendy anyway (can you say avocado green and harvest gold) Black is the new black.
Here's the part that really inflates my ego:
Not only does Jenny want to buy my house, she wants most of my furniture as well - my dinning room table, entertainment center, computer desk, and the entire six piece bedroom set. Is my decorating taste that phenomenal? Heck yes! (only logical answer with that kind of hard evidence in front of me) Now we have to decide what we want to sell to her and what we want to move. I should take the old curtains; bet I could make a great dress out of them (ain't that what all the girls do in the South?)
So I call Karen, mostly to gloat about my recently discovered decorating genius, but when she started crying instead of laughing, it hit me - crap. I am going to miss my family. My house. My city. The relief and excitement in me a moment ago melted away into tears of my own. I sat on my kitchen floor and noticed how pretty the tears looked splashing down on my ridiculously gorgeous tile. "I will miss you tile." (I actually said that aloud.) "You hid the dirt so well." (Okay, that part I just thought to myself because it was too embarrassing to say out loud - even to ceramic. So, I guess it's probably not a good thing that I am typing it here for all you people to see. . . umm, yeah. . . I was only joking; I scrub my floor every other day. See, doesn't it look clean. . .? )
I am going to miss everything I am leaving behind in Chicago, but I will have to suck it up - trade in my hurricanes for mint juleps and my snow for hurricanes. At least I can take the Cubs with me, Russ says we will get a sports package. (Please no comments on their current record. As I said, I already cried once this week.) And I know all my loved ones will visit us often. Although, you guys might want to wait until we can buy some new furniture; I don't want you to have to eat off the floor - I cannot vouch for its cleanliness.
Quote of the day - Karen: "mmm, hush puppies. . . fried balls of dough!"
- lada definitely likes them apples
The first realtor I interviewed said 4-6 months. Karen G____ said she would shoot for 2 months. Hot damn - 21 days!
We are pretty lucky though, the buyer (Jenny) was on her way to sign an intent to purchase contract at a house around the corner when she drove past our open house sign. She was torn for awhile. We were more expensive - the other house had the stainless steel appliances she liked - we had skylights. . . what would she decide. . . sun or steel. . . steel or sun? Oh yeah, it was dramatic. Phone calls late at night - bargaining back and forth, forth and back (okay, only three calls, it just seemed like a lot more because I had to keep pausing Grey's in the middle of all the "I've got to save the baby, tell me what to do!" moments). In the end Jenny made the right choice. Good for her - stainless appliances are way too trendy anyway (can you say avocado green and harvest gold) Black is the new black.
Here's the part that really inflates my ego:
Not only does Jenny want to buy my house, she wants most of my furniture as well - my dinning room table, entertainment center, computer desk, and the entire six piece bedroom set. Is my decorating taste that phenomenal? Heck yes! (only logical answer with that kind of hard evidence in front of me) Now we have to decide what we want to sell to her and what we want to move. I should take the old curtains; bet I could make a great dress out of them (ain't that what all the girls do in the South?)
So I call Karen, mostly to gloat about my recently discovered decorating genius, but when she started crying instead of laughing, it hit me - crap. I am going to miss my family. My house. My city. The relief and excitement in me a moment ago melted away into tears of my own. I sat on my kitchen floor and noticed how pretty the tears looked splashing down on my ridiculously gorgeous tile. "I will miss you tile." (I actually said that aloud.) "You hid the dirt so well." (Okay, that part I just thought to myself because it was too embarrassing to say out loud - even to ceramic. So, I guess it's probably not a good thing that I am typing it here for all you people to see. . . umm, yeah. . . I was only joking; I scrub my floor every other day. See, doesn't it look clean. . .? )
I am going to miss everything I am leaving behind in Chicago, but I will have to suck it up - trade in my hurricanes for mint juleps and my snow for hurricanes. At least I can take the Cubs with me, Russ says we will get a sports package. (Please no comments on their current record. As I said, I already cried once this week.) And I know all my loved ones will visit us often. Although, you guys might want to wait until we can buy some new furniture; I don't want you to have to eat off the floor - I cannot vouch for its cleanliness.
Quote of the day - Karen: "mmm, hush puppies. . . fried balls of dough!"
- lada definitely likes them apples
3 comments:
Congratulations . . . or sorry, whichever you are feeling in the mood for. Seriously though, I'm glad it wasn't such an ordeal as you feared it could be.
However, please lay off the "GWTW" references for the future. Don't get me started on that craptacular film and how its only redeeming factor is the advent of Technicolor.
fo shizzle (red star!)
I don't even know who you people are anymore.
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