My energy level was good. I've been keeping up ok, working out 5 times a week, building a business
(check it out!), doing laundry....kind of. Maybe not that last one as much.
And then we decided that 2 months prior to Little-A showing up is the perfect time to....(drum roll)....put our house on the market.
Truth.
No big deal, just slap it on the market, right? Right?
No.
Our house has been our project for the last two years, we bought it to flip it and have put countless hours of work into redoing it...most of the which took place inside, because frankly when we purchased it - the inside was simply horrendous.
When we recently decided we were ready to sell, we started noticing some less than lovely aspects of the outside of our little home. Oversights, you could call them. Cosmetic stuff, but speaking from experience, whether the work is cosmetic or structural, it's still work. (And all the people said, amen.)
The house had to be pressure-washed, from the roof line to the foundation. The fascia needed painting, not once, but twice. The siding had to be replaced in several areas because apparently the stuff they put on homes built in 1987 isn't designed to last until the apocalypse like present day concrete siding. Speaking of which, has anyone ever heard of garage doors that last for all of eternity? Ours didn't. Those had to be replaced too.
The gutters had to be painted, the front porch had to be painted, the front door couldn't stay the perfectly respectable black it has been for the last two years, oh no - it had to be red.
The sale of our house depends almost completely on the front door being red.
The real estate market can rise and fall, but if that door is red we can rest easy at night.
Red.
The house had to be painted which means every single window frame, door frame and piece of fascia that had just been painted white had to be masked off so it wasn't besmirched with the new and improved house paint. Sequencing is a tough one for us.
The driveway needed pressure washing. The yard needed pine straw which I've discovered I am basically incapable of writing as two words...pinestraw is my default. I've had occasion to write the word a lot in recent weeks so it's something I'm in the process of rectifying.
I could go on. There's more, there was a horrifying termite-damage repair saga somewhere in there, but basically my point is that before all of that stuff happened....my energy level was awesome.
Was.
Since all of those things have taken place (some of which, the ones not involving ladders and toxic fumes, I helped with) I have established heartfelt relationships with my couch, my bed and my bathtub. We are unified in our endeavors to accommodate the most delightful rest imaginable. It's a pretty deep connection at the moment.
I'm not one to ignore deep and heartfelt relationships as a general rule. So it's a matter of honor that compels me to bid you goodnight aaand go hang out with my pillow.
Ta,
Rae
