72 Hours?

So, having scurried around squawking like the proverbial chickens with their heads missing, getting the house ready for sale, we really hadn't had time to think yet about the looming issue on our personal horizon, namely the big "What's Next?" Well, the answer turned out to be "sit back for a (brief) moment while your trusty real estate representative works her magic via the Internet". In fact, Agent L emailed me Wednesday afternoon with the notice that our listing was "live and active", and just like that, we were open for business. Little did I know, that particular piece of innocent electronic correspondence should have been branded with a warning...for the craziness that would ensue.

Thursday morning I got an apologetic phone call asking if it was too-short-notice to allow an interested party to come over...at 9:30. Um....sure? Who am I to turn down our first customers, yeah? When they arrived, I quickly grabbed my purse and waved a cheery farewell, hightailing it out of there so they could wander around without me doing the Homeowner Hover...and also to avoid hearing their opinion of my living quarters. "No problem," I thought, "I'm just getting a jump start on my To Do List." Then, as the day progressed, I received a veritable barrage of requests: 5:30...5:45...6:30...aargh! I texted Husband and informed him that we would be needing to vacate the premises...at dinner time. He was typically unperturbed (and amused), deciding on the spot to come home and whisk the boys off to Subway for their evening meal. At that point, with the visits overlapping each other and multiple cars parked on our normally quiet street, it began to seem a bit like a circus...from which I felt increasingly compelled to run and hide...

But we survived the...onslaught...and although I ended the day completely worn out (as though I'd done soooo much work...I suppose the adrenaline...and evasive action...took their toll...) we agreed that it had appeared to be a very successful Day One on the market. And, don't get me wrong, it was exciting, too--but the little voice (of reason) in the back of my head cautioned, "Calm down, it's possible that nothing will come of this, everyone so far could have hated the property, prepare yourself for the potential of a very long process." Then I got yet another email Friday morning from our agent--before standard business hours, mind you--stating that she had a strong offer on the table, that the buyers were very motivated to have us review it, and that she and wanted to meet Saturday morning to discuss the details. Holy. Guacamole.

Reeling with this intel, I got ready to leave the house and go...tackle my day...thinking that since no appointments had been scheduled for the daytime hours, I could just put things "back to normal" (as opposed to "Pristine Model Home Condition...ish) and not worry about it. This basically boiled down to: the usual stuff taking up counter space, everyone's laundry delivered in piles to their beds to be put away later...and, oddly enough, a baby tooth of Riley's, left on a napkin in our before-school rush when it fell out this morning... (You just can't plan these things, am I right?) So naturally, I fielded an email while I was out running errands...that someone was coming by...at 1:30. Jeez, I sure hope they enjoyed the...clean underwear...and discarded dentition...that I left for their entertainment. OOPS!

When I arrived back at the ranch--um "home"--I quickly re-set the better-than-usual order of things...and it's good that I did, because in the meantime, I was notified of another showing later that same evening...and more for Saturday at 8:30 (someone coming back for a second look) ...10:30... 10:45...11:30...and noon. Ay yi yi! (I reassured Derek--who was extremely concerned--that while he does NOT have to vacate the house when the first visitors arrive...he WILL be required to leave his bed. As for the rest of the guests: it's Saturday, and they're just going to have to deal with us...) I placed a call to Agent L in a bit of a tizzy, asking her how to proceed with all this...real estate madness...engulfing us. She advised that we hold with our original plan to meet and go over the one firm offer we have in hand...but that we do it somewhere ELSE rather than at our kitchen table, while people are busy examining/critiquing the merits of our little homestead.

This is exhilarating...terrifying...and exhausting all at once. But if everything else fails, I can always accept the bargain held out to me by one of Derek's best friends. When I was volunteering at the middle school on Friday, I had the opportunity to catch Derek up on the new development. A few minutes later, his buddy approached me as I was preparing my daring Escape from the Cafeteria and said--with an impressive Cheshire Cat grin and enough brash bravado to bowl over a limo-full of used car salesmen--"I'll buy your house...for 30 dollars...7 pretzels...and, um...an eraser!" I sincerely hope it won't come to that, but I promise to keep it in mind! (at least until the resolution of tomorrow's pow-wow...)