hard sell

The Realtor is coming today.


Coming to walk through my house and give her educated opinion on whether we have a chance in hell of selling it in this terrible market. Coming to go from room to room making notes on windows and crown moulding and hard wood floors. Coming to examine comps on houses that have sold in the neighborhood, looking at square footage and lot size and number of bedrooms and bathrooms.


We have a history with her. She helped us buy and sell our very first house, a house I thought we'd never see. Now she's coming to play her unwilling part in our cliched little story, hopefully able to help us sell this, our second house - the house I thought I'd never leave.


And I don't even know where to start as far as what I feel about this. I don't want to leave this house. It's my dream house. I can't get out of this house fast enough. It's been totally ruined for me. I'll find some way to keep it. I can't keep it up on my own. It's too big for me and the boys. It's not fair to ask the boys to move again. Back and forth, over and over...like a metronome gone mad.


I'm going to be very limited in options as far as where we'll live. I'll need to buy, what with three kids and three big dogs. We'll need to stay right in the same neighborhood, smack in the middle of the three schools the kids will go to next year. I'll be back working full-time. They'll have to get themselves to and from school. A lot will change.


There's a little bungalow for sale two blocks away. I've gone to look at it and dragged friends with me for second opinions. It's smaller, but it's perfect. It's been on the market for a couple of months, with the price continuing to drop. Finally, it went up for lease. I drove by it several times a day, bargaining with the fates. If the house was still available when we sold ours, it would be an omen of sorts. A very small sign that things were maybe going to look up even slightly.


Thursday I went from room to room in our house, cleaning and rearranging things, trying to make the house look its best. I walked through, trying to see it from an impartial person's view, trying to get some idea of what she would see.


But all I could think of was what she wouldn't see. The landscaping I've planned for two years that I was going to start this spring. The Painted Lady paint job that I have pictured in my head, right down to the smallest trim color. The mosaic tile on the fireplace that I've imagined since the first day we saw the house. A happy family eating dinner out on the sun porch. She wouldn't see any of these things. But I would. In my head. Forever.


When I couldn't take it anymore I took the kids to see a movie. On the way home we drove past the bungalow.


There's a sale pending sign in the yard.