After much overthing – debating, I mean – I decide to sell my condo. The expense is too much for an adjunct teacher to keep up with, and I’d rather have a smaller place that I can afford without wondering if I’ll have enough money for groceries. The good news is I accidentally flipped my place when I bought it, so I can get a lot of money in the sell. (How does one “accidentally” flip a home? Well, my place was crap when I bought it [crappy like the 70s threw up all over it, and not in a cool way, in puke green shag carpet and large daisy wallpaper kind of way] and I made a lot of repairs to make it nice and livable. The accidentally flipping it comes from the fact that I didn’t exactly plan on moving out of it.)
On the day my realtor came to take pictures I started having anxiety, but not from my decision to sell. It was from the fact that I would be homeless soon.
“You aren’t going to be homeless,” my mom has said (many times). “You and the cat will live with me until you get another place.”
“But it won’t be my home – so I’ll be homeless. With no space of my own!”
“After the sale,” my mom continues (ignoring me, obviously), “you’ll get an affordable place and have a home.”
“And until then I’ll be homeless!”
My mom then stopped answering my texts and calls for a few hours.
I have also been feeling guilty because of my decision to sell mainly thanks to my cat. I’ll look over at her laying in the sun, all happy, relaxed, and drunk on sunlight and think, “She wont have the sun to relax in soon!” (Mom: “The sun shines at my place too!”)
I’m not sure if Arwen (the cat) is happily sunbathing on purpose to make me feel guilty, but she’s definitely getting pissed at all the showings we’ve have since I’ve had to take her to my mom’s. Before all of this she didn’t mind getting in her carrier since it didn’t happen all the time. Now she lets out this pathetic little whimper as I put her in, which she knows breaks my heart. Then, while at my mom’s, she’ll refuse to come out of the carrier for a while, go to the door and cry, and then get into someone’s lap and look sad.
No one can make you feel guilty quite like a cat.
Besides dealing with the guilt-trip, I also have strangers coming into my condo at least 3-4 times a week. I usually have an hour or so before the prospective buyers come, so I have to sweep dirt under the rug (Cinderella eat your heart out), clean up my clothes and books, and grab the cat (who now knows to hide when I start cleaning in a hurry). Sometimes they’ll even get there 15 minuets early, so the prospective buyers and their realtor get to hear my frantic call out for a few more seconds as I hide my clutter and try to catch my cat.
It’s always really awkward when I meet the prospective buyers outside my door. I never know what to say to them or if I should make eye contact. I once called out, “Enjoy my house!” as I lugged a cat carrier (complete with wailing cat) to the group waiting to come in. Usually I try to keep my eyes lowered and think about not saying anything.
So far there have been no offers, and now another condo down the street has been put on the market. It’s much prettier than mine, but more expensive. I now glare at it every time I drive by. I’m really not made for this type of market of buying-and-selling, and I’m pretty sure my realtor thinks I’m slightly weird (which is great as she’s also my boyfriend’s roommate’s step-mother…Can you tell that was written sarcastically?).
I’ll just keep thinking about how this won’t be forever, I’ll make a financial gain for the better, and soon it’ll all be over (and as I type this my anxiety adds “You don’t know when it will all be over…could be months…a year…”). And hopefully I’ll never have to move again.