Nicole
I really wanted to post something yesterday, but was holding off out of respect for my dad. Now I've decided to go ahead and post and simply leave off certain bits of information. And about the title, I'll get to that in a bit once I've caught up.

*deep breath*

It was yesterday when the day started at 6:55am. Why? My dog woke me up. Ok, well, I'd been sleeping crappily anyway, so I was half-awake at the time as it was, so it wasn't too big of a deal when she came in and started fussing. She'd gotten stuck outside of mom and dad's room and of course she doesn't ask the alpha male for anything, and so if mom doesn't do something for her, she comes to me next, like a kid see-sawing from mom to dad about candy. Anyway, after being incoherent to dad, I went back to bed and didn't get up again until 10.

Two sausage patties and two over-easy eggs later, the phone rang, dad was on the treadmill, I got it, and skipping ahead, our real estate lady was going to show our house that day at 1 or 2. Oh joy. (to her credit, she'd tried to reach us twice, but was unable to get through - probably because dad was online downstairs where nothing picks up as opposed to upstairs) Our house, though in good shape, new oven and dishwasher and some paint jobs and all that, still has a few tweaks that needs attending to. Of course, having just slapped it up on the Century 21 site a day or so before, we'd hardly had the time to put in a new storm door, paint a small area outside, fix the wood tiles near the front door, and clean. Cue the mass hysteria.

I doled out the job of vacuuming to Ashley whilst I ran around and...well I'm not even sure what I did at that time exactly...I just remember running around like a chicken with my head cut off all morning. I did clean the stovetop, counters, kitchen area in general, threw a bunch of clothes away that had been sitting around unsold from the garage sale, and attacked our goofy little pool outside once dad was done cleaning it out. Ashley pretty much did everything I told her. We tidied up around the house, hid random items, I went bonkers in my room the second I had the chance, putting away my clothes from the day before from the drying rack, stashing my purse and a few knickknacks, under my bed, in my closet, under that birthday hat with the candles on it. Dad was Quikcreting cracks outside, a spot inside where the wood tile had to come up and the concrete had broken and gotten all loose, and then came the paint.

The day before we'd gone to Lowe's and gotten some paint. Dad picked it out. I was baffled. It was an odd sort of green color, one he claimed was going to go outside. Nothing outside was this color green, or remotely that color. No idea what the man was thinking. I made my confusion and doubt clear; "Green? I don't think that's the color outside dude." But to no avail. When we got home, well, I'm sure you can guess.

Anyway, back to what we were doing. Dad had found some paint that was a much milder green (sort of - it was lighter, but rather, ah, vibrant) and had set to painting outside our little doorside window. It didn't match much. I was ordered to finish (oh! That's what I did first that morning! Paint the mailbox, I remember now) and did so and then went about cleaning paintbrushes and yanking tape off of other painted areas inside the house (er, ok, just one spot on the other side of the glass) and remembered where the paint had come from. It had no relation to the outdoors, rather, some sponge painting mom had done in the bathroom. Oops. Ah well, our plan was to bust out the paint we'd used not long ago to patch areas in the house. It's basically the right color, and over the green paint, would work out nicely. And it does, in fact, as just several hours ago I hopped on out there and slapped up a fresh coat so now everything looks peachy (shut up, we all know it's not exterior paint, but we don't hide the details from possible buyers either).

While we're in the midst of our frenzy, our real estate lady calls again, and as I've left the phone in my room upon the initial frenzy, I'm spazzing about the house in search of it and don't reach it before the answering machine goes off, which is back downstairs, so I obviously don't get there in time, unless I want to hurl myself down the stairs and hope for the best. It's 12:50 and the message on the recorder says they'll be there around 1:30. Gyah. After some more bustle, I get dressed into something respectable instead of slobwear, and head out to inspect the green paint just as they pull up to mosey around the house. I'm pooped, dad's down where it's polar in the basement to cool off, and the dog's been put in her little kennel cage and we hope she won't freak out too much. I'm not exactly accustomed to being around while people are looking about my house. But we all chat - dad and the husband are chattering away, etc. etc. until 3:40 when the wife finally manages to break the two up and drag her hubby off.

The day ended at Applebee's with the news that prospects were good, but to keep an eye out in case not, you know, things like that. I never dreamed selling this house could crop up so quickly like that. Case in point, just today the first phone call I got was from an agent with a customer wanting to see the house tomorrow at 5. So I have to clean again, or at least spruce up. I'll probably have Ashley vacuum again for good measure. When the time comes we'll take the dog for a nice long walk. Or car ride. Whichever. She likes car rides so it doesn't matter.

And what about the phone call thing? Well I've already picked the dang thing up 6 or 7 times today. Mom and Dad are off to Pennsylvania once more to scope out living places for dad while he goes to school (or houses...or something, not entirely sure what their purpose is down there) so I have to manage all this craziness, which is fine. Cripes, even my grandma called today. A telemarketer, three calls (our real estate lady, dad, and the random one) to tell me about the 5 o'clock showing tomorrow. Blarg.

So once again, that's what's been going on in the life o'me. I'll bet none of you ever thought that when I started this blog it would turn into a play by play of my relocation to a state in the east. Hell, even I never imagined it would turn into that. How odd...

...I'm making beef fajitas tonight anyway.


OMFG stop calling me!
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