As in real life, I don't swear much on this blog. But sometimes, there are situations that call for it.
This is one of those times.
I just spent the last two fucking hours waiting for the damn phone to ring with some sort of news about our house. "What if they decide to keep looking? What if they decide they don't want to buy at all? What am I going to do if we don't get a contract? I will kill someone if I have to spend another year at this job . . . " and similarly helpful thoughts kept swirling through my mind. By 2 o'clock, my stomach was in knots, my head was throbbing & I was certain the deal had completely fallen apart. I was carrying my cell phone with me wherever I went, including the bathroom, where I threw up. Twice. I suppose I should be grateful the Realtor didn't call then. Or, at least, she should be.
When I finally did talk to her, approximately 15 minutes ago, she told me that, after rescheduling their appointment multiple times throughout the afternoon, her buyer finally called to tell her that "the cable guy is running late" & the appointment would have to be rescheduled for tomorrow.
So, yes, I get to repeat this little drama all over again tomorrow. Joy. I'm sure there is some lesson that I should be learning from this, like not to waste your time worrying about something that may or may not happen & that you have no control over anyway, or some such crap. But I swear to you, if anyone even thinks of suggesting such a thing to my face, I will vomit on them. Jesus, Mary & Joseph, won't this ever end*?
* Note to Mom: this is starting to seem like our excruciating, interminable trip to Connecticut. Minus the turbulence, buffalo farm and visits to the hospital. I suppose for that, at least, I should be grateful.
This is one of those times.
I just spent the last two fucking hours waiting for the damn phone to ring with some sort of news about our house. "What if they decide to keep looking? What if they decide they don't want to buy at all? What am I going to do if we don't get a contract? I will kill someone if I have to spend another year at this job . . . " and similarly helpful thoughts kept swirling through my mind. By 2 o'clock, my stomach was in knots, my head was throbbing & I was certain the deal had completely fallen apart. I was carrying my cell phone with me wherever I went, including the bathroom, where I threw up. Twice. I suppose I should be grateful the Realtor didn't call then. Or, at least, she should be.
When I finally did talk to her, approximately 15 minutes ago, she told me that, after rescheduling their appointment multiple times throughout the afternoon, her buyer finally called to tell her that "the cable guy is running late" & the appointment would have to be rescheduled for tomorrow.
So, yes, I get to repeat this little drama all over again tomorrow. Joy. I'm sure there is some lesson that I should be learning from this, like not to waste your time worrying about something that may or may not happen & that you have no control over anyway, or some such crap. But I swear to you, if anyone even thinks of suggesting such a thing to my face, I will vomit on them. Jesus, Mary & Joseph, won't this ever end*?
* Note to Mom: this is starting to seem like our excruciating, interminable trip to Connecticut. Minus the turbulence, buffalo farm and visits to the hospital. I suppose for that, at least, I should be grateful.
Labels: must. sell. house.
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