Trying to sell a house in Florida is about as easy as sneaking a half-liter of Evian pass the TSA. You can do it, but it takes cunning, guile and apparently lots and lots of luck, which so far has been in short supply.
On the flip side, I’ve already got my eye on a few homes in South Louisiana where I am hoping to relocate my family soon. So, I’m working both sides of the deal now. I find myself critiquing every home I see, and at the same time hoping that everyone who sees my home loves it without reservation.
The kicker is that I know there is someone in the same shape as me: you gotta sell one in order to buy another.
I’m in day 244 of exile here. I moved in with relatives last June, hoping that by Summer’s end the family would be reconciled. The kids told their classmates goodbye and then stripped their rooms of excess junk, excuse me, expendable… uh… stuff which was placed in storage.
Since then they’ve learned to do without their… stuff… for longer than thought, but worse, they’ve had to return to school saying “false alarm.”
Our home is still for sale, and we’re redoubling our efforts to move it. We’ve decluttered, buried St. Joseph and have grown accustomed to living in a fishbowl again. I say “we” but I mean she. Pamela’s been doing all the heavy lifting while I’ve been cooling my heels in the heart of Cajun country. She’s the one prepping the house to show, coordinating with realtors and hiring handymen to do the things I’m not there to do. So, you see I’m not just in debt with the mortgage; I owe her a big one, and the amortization table on something like that is mind-boggling.
Categories: Let's talk about me
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.