One more week that we didn't sell our house in. I'm going bananas. I find disappointment in the smallest tasks because I'm still washing my hands in the same sink, vacuuming the same carpet, driving up the same driveway and I want so badly to be in a different house that is closer to Geoff. If we were closer, he would even be able to come home for lunch once in a while. We could go on dates and to the Temple more often. I wouldn't worry about all of the road and all of the cars between here and there. He wouldn't have to fill up his gas tank every 4 days. It would strip away a heavy layer of stress. It would... We could...
But, you see, I know it's not healthy to live on the woulds, coulds and somedays, but an even bigger BUT is that I can't seem to help it. It's like the proverbial carrot on a stick- always there in front of me, but no matter how many steps I take forward, I never reach the carrot. And lately, I feel like I'm standing still while the carrot somehow moves further and further away. I mean, what can I do besides sit in a clean house that is ready to show? Short of standing on a corner with a sandwich sign that says "Buy My House!" Talk about a lesson in futility. There's just not much I can actually DO to make our house sell any faster.
They're coming to get the portable storage unit today. We've packed away so much stuff! It helps keep the house clean, but it's been in there long enough and we thought we'd be gone before now, so we're starting to miss things. Things like Halloween costumes, the tote with the coats in it, the maternity clothes (for Heather to borrow). How soon before we need the high chair, and some of the other baby stuff we packed? All of the Christmas decorations are in there. It looks like our house is going to be very bare for a very long time.
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