We are getting ready to put our house on the market and an unpleasant side effect is that I now hate everyone. The realtor is coming this week to take photos to put on the website so I’ve been busting balls to get the place looking less like a flop house and more like something someone would want to buy instead of shoot up in. You don’t realize how filthy your family is until your home is about to be judged by everyone on the internet. I now realize that my kids all have fingerprints and my husband wears shoes and the dogs have hair and I wear clothes. These are the reasons I hate. And I am almost ready to punch the dog… because he is licking his pecker like he doesn’t have a care in the world and I can SEE the hair being magnetically pulled from his body and statically clung to the couch behind him . Everyone must contribute to making this house look its best… even the dogs.
I was considering placing a gif here of that skit from, I think, Kids in the Hall where they use their finger and thumb to “crush people’s skulls” but made the mistake of Googling “crushing skull.” I no longer want to hurt anyone.
Kinda want to puke though.
Don’t Google “crushing skull.” Things get real gross, real fast.
The past week has been fairly stressful for me. After the weirdness with my ex and the frenzy of cleaning and decluttering and the baby having a particularly needy four-month growth spurt I was ready to drive my car off a cliff, Thelma and Louise style… except without a friend, so it’s a lot sadder.
I might have taken my dog… God, no… that makes me tear up a little bit thinking about driving off a cliff and killing Agnes. I mean, look at her face!
She’s all grown up now but I always force this pic down people’s throats whenever I find an opportunity. There is no cuter puppy than this one.
I might have taken Doofus. His constant penis licking would have given me the anger-fuel to really floor the gas and not chicken out. I would have screamed, “STOP LICKING YOUR DICK!!!!” as we plunged into the Grand Canyon. Or the Ohio River. I’m not sure how much gas there is in the Mazda.
I think that’s how Thelma and Louise goes, right? I’ve never bothered to watch the movie. I think I get the gist of it though. Brad Pitt’s hot, two ladies don’t like the constraints of a patriarchal society and commit suicide. No? Whatever. Susan Sarandon sucks.
So things around our house haven’t exactly been sunshine and cake pops. I’ve been rather yell-y. My husband has been taking the brunt of it since his and my ideas of time management differ greatly. He tends to over-book himself. He is coaching our son’s soccer team (Go Heat!) and our daughter’s softball team (Go Reds!). He is a third shift police officer who is on the SWAT team, which means he has a fucked up, can-be-called-into-work-any-minute-now schedule. And he is the man in our patriarchical, 1950’s style home dynamic where he is man-who-brings-home-bacon and I am the stay at home wifey who is at home 24-7 with the kids, mostly barefoot. Only recently un-pregnant. Plus, I spend a lot of time in the kitchen. The only difference between me and Donna Reed is that I have a master’s degree. I use it as a serving tray.
However, I bet that Donna, if she were mothering today, would have a mini-van and not a Mazda3. Can you Crowdfund a vehicle purchase? I’m raising little presidents and doctors here… that’s kind of a venture/business, right?
Anyway, we were cut a break by the realtor who, unfortunately for her/fortunately for us, is a bit under the weather so the photo shoot of the house was postponed. I stopped freaking out almost immediately when I heard she wouldn’t be coming until Thursday– three Baby Jesus Blessed days later than anticipated. I’m sorry she is feeling sick. I’m so fucking relieved I have more time to hide the flaws in our home.
But more days means more procrastinating. Even if I say the same thing my husband says to the boy’s soccer team when they’re winning– “The score is still 0 to 0,” meaning that even though we are ahead, we keep working like we aren’t. We may have gained 3 days but that doesn’t mean we can sit on our asses and wait until the last minute again…
But what are we doing right now while the baby is playing on his mat peacefully and the other two kids are in school? He is napping and I’m blogging.
Maybe our time management skills are similar after all…
Just kidding… he has to work tonight so he is resting up. I’m just being time-selfish and doing this instead of real work.I figure I’ll have plenty of time later to yell at everyone to get shit done. 😉
Wish us luck and put a few prayers in a bucket for us as we begin this whole buying-and-selling adventure for reals. And pray for my family too, if you could. They do have to live with me, after all.
One thought on “Real Estate, Real Stress”
That is the funniest description of what I inflict on people! You made my day.
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