I was just looking at the option in Blogger for "change language" and I think I'm going to change this entire website to German. Just until the house sells. Then you'd no longer need to subject yourselves to the craptacular wonder that is my life.
Frikon this scheisse!
Oops! There I go again, being negative. I already forgot my new goal: to be ridiculously, unreasonably, psychotropic-ally positive.
For instance, on Friday when we found out we had another offer on the way while we were still negotiating Thursday's offer, I dressed completely in pink. And wore ponytails.
And then? When both offers fell through on Saturday? No problem. I made cookies in the shape of Ghandi.
Even the giant inexplicable stains that appeared on the front carpet couldn't bring me down. I just raced out and bought Precious Moments figurines.
And when we had two showings yesterday and absolutely no feedback, I stenciled hearts up and down my arm ...with a knife.
Mainly what we've surmised from this market is that our area is at record-breaking lows, that there are over 400 homes in our price range (about 100 houses for every buyer! Neat!), and that the slightest negative aspect will turn away an offer.
Bearing this in mind, for our last Open House, I was so meticulous that I ended up sacrificing my olive oil brush for a last-minute touch up of the cabinet paint. And yet, our realt*r still overheard a husband whisper to his wife "The cabinets are painted".
I so wish I were there, so that I could've stepped up and said :"Well, look at Mr. Obvious here! Damn right they're painted! It only took four months, three hundred dollars, and a torn tendon. AND? What of it?".
Then I would have flashed my Home Improvers gang sign.
I hate buyers. Hate them. It's like an abusive relationship. I hate how they're treating me. But, I want them to call.
I think I'm going to stage our next showing. I'm not messing around anymore.
I'm renting animals and people.
At the exact moment the buyers look at our backyard a doe will gallop across our grass with her fawn.
And then two bluebirds will carry a tiny blanket in their beaks before gently laying it on a sleeping bunny.
I'm also going to rent different neighbors.
So, when the buyers walk out the front door, a family of six rides by on bikes at that exact moment and waves. Before stopping to deliver a fresh pie.
And then an ice cream man (that doesn't look like a serial killer driving a modified panelled van) will pull up and 50 clean, well-mannered children will scamper over clutching their allowance money while their parents watch from their porch rocking chairs.
That's all I'm missing. That and a positive attitude.
Now. Does anyone know how angry a caged deer is likely to get?