So Let's Discuss the Things That Fell Apart

You guys.

Our house KNOWS.

I'm just saying that in the week before and after we put it up for sale, a multitude of things went wrong. Some were our fault, some just happened, some I feel like is The Luck of Kat (it's a thing - google it). Karl knows. Whenever he walks into a restaurant alone, there's always a table, never a line and the service is always perfect and timely.  Walk in with me? YOU'RE DOOMED to the longest, wrongly ordered meal ever! I can't help it. I am that person who ALWAYS (without fail) picks the wrong line at the grocery store or the bank - you know the one that looks just like the one next to it but takes FOUR hours longer.

Anyway.

First of all, let's talk doors.

Mine is orange. 

(Side note: My PRECIOUS neighbor, who we purchased our house from eight years ago - they then moved next door, has a husband that is a painter and she wanted us to express to the new owners that "no offense" BUT her husband was available to repaint their front door if they needed it.  Ummmm.... tell me how you REALLY FEEL about my door because I am pretty sure when we bought the house from you the front door was HOLLOW and Nora Kate could have kicked through it and the screen door was installed not only inside out but also upside down so you had to pull up awkwardly on the handle and swing the door a strange direction just to OPEN it.  (Wow, this post is getting super-venty! Sorry! Moving is stressful.) 

Anyway, the first day our realtor came by to put the sign up in our front yard, he was all "I'm going to need your front door key" (logically) and Karl and I looked at each other in blind panic.  Yea.... no idea where that is. We use the carport keys the aforementioned neighbors gave us 8 years ago; half our neighbors have copies. I'm pretty sure the folks that installed the front door when we had it replaced (from aforementioned hollow door) made us a key, but, yea, WHERE IS IT?!? We searched for hours and hours and found approximately (no lie) 30 keys, none of which went to our front door.

Sigh. Call in the locksmith. $50 later, we have front door keys!   


Secondly, like a week after our house went up, we noticed one of our toilets was constantly running and running. Sigh. Call in the plumber. $75 and full-on replacement tank parts and we have SILENCE! (And, yes, maybe I could have tried to fix this myself but, just, no.)  The running water also caused a little issue with our bathtub (gotta love old houses!) that we also fixed.

Also, LIGHT BULBS EVERYWHERE were like, oh, you're moving? Let's burn out.  Two said lightbulbs were "2 year bulbs" which we put in waaaay less than 2 years ago. I think. $A kajilion dollars in light bulbs later, we have LIGHT.

And, finally, literally like at 8pm the night before the inspector was coming to perform the home inspection, our dear, dear Arlo dog snapped a wooden picket from the back gate. He has become quite the escape artist in his old age; we regularly pile things against the (usually broken) fence and Karl had JUST fixed it the weekend before; I thought his head might pop off in rage when we heard that picket crack. I'm pretty sure our home would have passed inspection with the one picket missing but we didn't even want it to be on the list of things to fix. $8.50 at Home Depot at 9 p.m. on a Tuesday night, we have a fixed fence!


It's been a comedy, for sure. I had GRAND ideas of writing the new owners a sweet love note with cookies (or beer?) and glowing descriptions of all the neighbors (even the we'll-paint-your-door ones!). But now, after the haggling - normal negotiations I am sure but in the end we were, um, negotiating over $100. Really? It felt a little ridiculous but I'm sure it could have been worse. And, honestly, now I don't care if it was them or their realtor but all my glowy feelings are now gone, gone, gone and they will get a professionally cleaned and completely empty house. 

All this to say, I'm ready now. 

(Please pray all the windows don't spontaneously shatter.)

 LET'S DO THIS. 

One week until close date.