One of my pet peeves are blogs where the writer or artist attempts to make it sounds like everything is fantastic and wonderful and full of epiphanies and loveliness at all times, when you know that can’t be the case. But on the other hand, I do like to keep my whining to a minimum on here because that’s not really what this blog is about.
I just wanted to be truthful and real with you because I’m having a hard time. It is of course of my own making in deciding to try to sell our house in the middle of winter, really because I couldn’t take one more moment without some sort of change.
For better or for worse, I tend to be the type of person who when they’re done with something, they are done. For about two years now I have been ‘patiently’ (which means not patiently) waiting for the terrible mess of the housing market to improve. Well, it never did. So I decided the reckless route would be good enough, so I cleaned this place like my life depended on it, packed away so many things, and crossed my fingers and waited. And waited. And waited. That seems to be where this story stalls.
I spend a lot of time redesigning make-believe old houses and gardens in my imagination. I ponder new color schemes and new adventures. I think I crave a new adventure and my “do it right now” personality grates against the terrible waiting game that this has become. I know that this is probably supposed to make me a better and more patient person. Perhaps our ‘dream home’ isn’t ready to be ours yet, so we wait. But I am such a worrier. I am also impetuous, so all this sitting around thinking about it all drives me a little crazy.
Not that there’s much to be done about this. But its where I am now. And I wanted to be frank about the bitter with the sweet. Because it’s there, for all of us. Thanks for listening. I’ll be more upbeat tomorrow~