coordinating craziness

Holy mackerel. This selling a house is for the birds. We’ve been very lucky with lots of aspects to this process but we’re also constantly navigating adrenaline spikes as people we’ve hired either flake or we find an issue that needs another contractor to fix before the one we hired can do the work. And of course, we can't skip a beat if we plan to meet our deadline. *deep breath*

We have to replace the carpet in our upstairs. It isn’t an option—I am too embarrassed to post a photo, it is that stained. To be fair, it is over 20 years old, white and is in the room where I made art and our animals hung out. We were all set and had paid to have it removed and replaced. It was guaranteed, with reassurance last week, that installation would happen this week or next. Well, I learned this morning that July 19th was the date they were able to schedule it. 25 days after our house goes on the market.

After a few tears and brainstorming with John, we think we have the option to use a different company and they can do it next week! But, of course, we don't know how much this will cost us and until it is done, though, we won’t believe it will actually happen.

We also had to deal with a flakey, arrogant person we hired from to pull weeds for us. We hired him two weeks ago and he has had nothing but excuses from the start. I should have called it off sooner—my intuition told me to and I ignored it (wanting to be nice). So, now we still need someone to weed for us. At least we've cut this strange, unrewarding relationship off with this flaky weed dude.

All in all, though, we’ve been super lucky and are grateful to the people we’re working with: roof cleaners, painters, wall repair dude… our realtor. All authentic, solid people who are reliable.

We’re attempting to pull off something kind of unreasonable. We have 10 days until the house will have photos taken for the sale. So it essentially has to be ready to go by 11:59 p.m. on 6/19. Our list is long and wide and our money limited--and there will be concessions as the days count down. John has been working so hard, non-stop that he has a pinched nerve or something that wakes him every night with sharp “needle” like pains shooting down his arms, making it impossible for him to sleep. Between this and the years of sleepless old dog years--John's due for some deep, long, uninterrupted tropical beach sleeping. John is currently averaging 12+ hours of work on the house, coordinating contractors, running errands, etc. 

He’s going to acupuncture tonight and chiropractic tomorrow to solve the nerve pinch. I hope he sleep soundly tonight!

It will all be worth it, we know that. But this is a tiring moment. We keep it in perspective while giving ourselves permission to be pitiful now and then. This process has taught us (at least) 10 things that will serve us well in life:

1.       Less stuff = happier us

2.       Smaller house = happier us

3.       Smaller yard = happier us

4.       Mellower (unbranded) town = happier us

5.       It is okay to follow the beat of a lesser heard drum (and we don't have to explain it to people who can't hear it)

6.       Filter people through: 1st) brain, 2nd) the gut and 3rd) heart. Save the heart filter for last because the heart imagines the best in others even when the brain and gut recognize red flags (of course, this doesn't mean be loving and compassionate always--it just means DON'T be a sucker!)

7.       Self-care is an imperative for health and happiness

8.       Don’t rush and never put anything off

9.       Hug each other every day no matter how paint-stained or smelly we are

10.   Follow our hearts even if it makes other people nervous—they will be okay

I’d like to give a special shout out to my co-workers. I am very fortunate to work with people who are open-hearted, curious and thoughtful. Many of whom have traveled extensively or who hope to someday. My co-workers offer encouragement and genuine excitement for the journey we’re about to embark on. It’s such a relief to be supported in this way by people I see 40 hours a week. I rarely bring up the trip and yet find myself talking about it often, to people whose eyes light up with genuine excitement. I will miss seeing these people every day. I am in denial of it right now. I hope to someday write a musical ode to my wonderful and amazing co-workers, and return to perform it at a staff meeting.

Ok. On to washing the bathroom, top to bottom.