Sunday Evening, Coming Down

Ho hum. I think I've become an adrenalin junkie.

After the crazy last few months, the prospect of selling our house and moving back to northern California seems just like another project. I spent the last two weeks in the house scrubbing and rubbing. Now it's scrubbed clean and rubbed to a fancy, decorated shine. It looks better than it ever has, and I'm wondering why I never put this much effort in it when we lived here. Hmmm.

Now all I have to do is keep it perfect and wait for the offers to come rolling in. Since we are once again at the wrong end of the real estated see saw, that seems optomistic. I sure would like to repeat my best real estate trick of selling to the first looker. I know it's asking a lot to make it four times in a row, but maybe!

Now I'm all done with this stage and I can't really do anything else towards the move until we have a contract. No projects around the house, no starting anything around here that requires a commitment. No travel. It appears there is going to be a couple of weeks of downtime.

And it seems so wrong.

I guess I'll just make the most of it and try to do little or nothing for a few days. But what, she asks? It seems very weird not to have a booked up calendar or a big project that needs done right this minute.

This is a good problem to have. I'm sure I can come up with something.

I'll have to leave the house, though. I can't mess anything up. I just hope I don't find myself signing up for 3 Easy Skydiving Lessons or something.

Addiction to adrenalin is a dangerous thing.