After only two months of rapid cleaning, packing up the dogs, and vacating the premises on short notices, the house has sold. I can’t believe it. I’m not in shock over the place where I spent most of my childhood no longer belonging to us (yet), but I am literally amazed someone wanted our house. Okay, our backyard was redone and looks awesome enough that I wish we could have lived here throughout the summer. But someone wants our house that’s ten different colors and is probably going to need a new roof and some remodeling. It was built from scratch so it was designed exactly for us, it’s hard to imagine the house would appeal to someone else. The kitten wallpaper from my bedroom may be long gone, but the exterior is still bright yellow. I honestly thought it would take a year and many drinks before my dad finally lowered the price to put things in motion.
Our realtor says it’s now a seller’s market. This past week someone who lived two hours away saw pictures of our house, got nagged by their mother-in-law to put a contract on it fast, and by the weekend they kicked us out of our house at 8:30 am, and again in the afternoon. They got the contract set up in one day and just like that, it’s almost over.
There’s a bunch of technicalities to iron out, and apparently we’re hoping for a backup contract. Which means I still have to be in clean mode. If everything goes well my parents are out in July, and I’m moving into my new apartment in June. I’m so excited to move, but it’s weird that my parents won’t still be in this house. Maybe the new owners will let me use their backyard?
It’s ten. My mom is asleep on the couch while I play chest and try not to focus on the Mentalist. I had a great game last night where my father didn’t slaughter me but won after a hard fought battle. It’s not that the Mentalist is distracting but that I hate it. I love Simon Baker, or I know nothing about Simon Baker but I think he is very attractive. And his partner is from Empire Records, but really what else does that show have going for it? Besides being a highly successful crime procedural, of course.
We all had a busy week. My parents are putting their house on the market in March. It wasn’t until this Saturday that I actually realized how soon March was. Selling the house in March was the plan from November, it’s just what we said. And now it’s happening. I’m not actually that sentimental about the house. It kinda sucks that now it’s as close to brand new as it was since twenty years ago when it was brand new and we don’t get to enjoy it. But I’m most disappointed that my dogs will be moving an hour away once the house sells.
I was going to move when the house sold. And by move I mean I was going to find other family members to mooch off, many who have already offered. I don’t know how to illustrate how cheap I am because there isn’t really a list of set things I do. I just don’t spend money whenever possible. And I find it’s possible a lot. But now I’m at a point where I saying fuck it. I’m always saving up for some point in the future, whether it’s an emergency or my current plans to move to LA. Except it’s not really saving, it’s hoarding. I don’t have a good relationship with money. It causes me too much stress and anxiety. And I’m finding that save for money I really do want to move into my own apartment. So yes I will have to spend money. Once I’m done cringing over that I’m telling myself that this will be a positive experience for me or other happy mantras I can repeat when I freak out over money. But it will be. And I can still save money for LA. And my roommate wants to get a cat and name it Princess Sparkle. So there’s that too.
A cute cat picture cures all worries.