Last night, we signed paperwork to sell our house. We’ve lived here ten years. Today we will put the bid on the new house. I’ve been speaking to lenders. We’re preapproved twice already, but I’m looking for places where we might get a break on any of the closing costs or points or anything.
My romantic comedy series recently celebrated its one-year anniversary with the publishing house that’s considering it. (This isn’t the editor’s fault. Usually a writer can say, “The editor was slow” but this time there were other circumstances.) The agent told me yesterday that we should have a final-final answer “today or tomorrow” and since I didn’t hear back yesterday, that means “today” except that I’ve come to mentally expand any estimation of time by 400%. I’m figuring Friday or next Monday. That doesn’t stop me from being tense.
Given these two situations, but mostly the house, it’s no wonder I’m stressed up to my eyeballs. I’ve been having vivid, strange (and sometimes horrible) dreams. Dreams involving houses that fall down and children that get lost. Last night I was involved in a landslide, and I was clinging to the ground between two people: a bereaved mom and a baseball player, and I was trying to explain to the baseball player that the bereaved mom was feeling emotionally fragile and she wanted him to promise he’d come back to her.
Right. Then I awaken exhausted, and it’s time to write a weblog entry, only I have no ideas. Apparently my dreaming brain has used up all of them. 🙁
Real estate is the polar opposite of book publishing: things happen fast. You make an offer on a house and the agent acts as if the paperwork is on fire and you must sign before it burns to a crisp. Whereas if you offer a book for sale… Well, happy anniversary, manuscript!
So how is it that two deals seem to be going under contract in the same week? (Or, alternatively, two deals seem to be falling apart in the same week, and I’ll need to start shopping two things at the same time.)
Meanwhile, I have a postpartum checkup today for me, and I had a well-baby appointment for Kiddo#4 yesterday, only they were so delayed that now it’s rescheduled for tomorrow. Being a neurotic person, I’m worried that the medical professionals will get one look at either or both of us, gasp, and then go back to hiding whatever terrible truth I’m failing to see.
The truth is, I’m just stressed right now. No funny or sarcastic entry today. Just a very frazzled me.
I’ll get over it. In two weeks, all these things will be settled. It’s the unsettledness that’s tough to handle.