Well, it's May 11th now. We officially put our house on the market 9 weeks ago today. Our original listing was up yesterday but we extended it through the end of the month. Big whoop huh? People have their houses on the market for years sometimes before selling. Well, me... well I hoping for a miracle. In fact, I was pretty sure a miracle was going to happen, especially when that beautiful tudor came on the market a week after ours. I knew it was meant to be. That beautiful house stood on the market for a solid 5 weeks or so. That alone was a miracle considering half of Westwood wanted to buy it, but everyone else was in the same boat, they needed to sell their house first. Of course it went pending to some lucky so-and-so. Today though my heart was officially broken when our backup favorite house went pending as well. So now, if we did by some chance get an offer, there's no place we're interested in moving to (in our price range that is).
Don't get me wrong, we're fine, we'll get by here with 3 kids just fine for awhile. In fact it will take a little stress off not to have to spend my last trimester moving... cause that would be a barrel of fun for sure. It's just I can't help feeling like a big fat failure (no pun intended for the 'big fat' part, even though I'm there for sure). I feel like I could be another line in Alanis Morrisette's "Isn't it Ironic" hit (Don't laugh! That CD changed my life... Ben was so much 'best friend with benefits'... good times in 1995) The point is isn't it ironic that a so called interior designer can't lure someone into buying her home? You know, that sanctuary created with 7 long, drawn-out years of design schooling and years of professional experience. Every other designer I know has had their place sold within 2 months or so, at a decent price. Some in as little as 3 days. Yet here we are, no hope in sight and we're looking at another year and a half before we can give it a go again.
Call it a pity party, please. And pass the Pringles potato chips. Just try not to spit on me as you repeat that phrase 5 times fast.
Honestly though I don't know which part has me in the dumps more. The fact I am an designer who can't sell one of her 'creations' or a mom stuck in a small house with no yard for her kids to play in. I just feel like a total failure. (Oh, haven't I warned you before of wildly shifting hormonal mood swings? Consider this one.) So if anyone wants to send me a nudge of encouragement, big hug or 'get over yourself you big fat crybaby' please do. I'm going to go encourage Isla to play with her poop some more now, you all need something of more substance to read about next time.
If you want a laugh after this Debbie Downer drivel, please view the following link. I wet myself partly because I'm pregnant and partly because it had me laughing in hysterics.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ql-N3F1FhW4
It made me feel not so bad about blaring 'Jagged Little Pill' in my fly Chrysler Town & Country.
No comments:
Post a Comment