The process of selling your house is like asking someone that you're pretty sure is out of your league to a dance. And being rejected. A couple times a week.
So here's what it has been like for me: I clean and scrub and dust and arrange (and Febreze). I hide things that the realtor warned us people might not like to see (which for some reason includes loofahs and highchairs -but whatever, I'll play your game finicky buyer) and sometimes even remember to put fresh fruit in the bowl (or at least turn the apples so that the yucky side is facing down). It all feels so desperate; Like I am putting on every ounce of make up I own and wearing my best outfit, getting ready to ask my friend to ask that guy to the dance for me.
For that hour or so... I am thinking things like- Oh my gosh, they are probably in my house right now. Did I remember to pick up that Cheerio I saw peeking out from under the couch? I hope they can't see that small stain in the carpet. Oh and let's not forget... Please let them buy my house, who needs a garage when you have an amazing leaky shed?
Then we get home, and if there isn't a sad little note on the table, there is an email from the realtor letting us down easy... writing things like, At least they didn't think the price was bad! Which to me is just like your best friend coming back with the bad news and then saying "Well at least he didn't say you were smelly like that Ashley girl!"
Ugh, I could use some Ben and Jerry's after all this rejection.
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