The Recess... (welcome to the alcoves of my mind)

Selling your house sucks monkey butt!!!

GAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! Why are we selling my house again?? I mean sure it's right next to a major street, it's too big for my family's needs, and you have to go up three flights of stairs to go from the laundry room to the bedrooms, but WHY have we chosen to put ourselves through the unbelievable TORTURE that is selling a house?? I ask you why, but you don't know...NO ONE DOES!

Whew...glad I got that out. I had a little bit of a "mishap" (that was for you Lauren) this morning. Here's the story:

10:00AM
I am woken up out of my peaceful slumber by a ringing doorbell, which I hate because then I have to greet strangers in my pyjamas, with messy hair, and while I'm still half asleep (and that ain't no pretty sight, lemme tell ya). When I finally open it I am faced with not one, or two, or even five people. There have got to be at least a dozen people sitting on my porch, standing in my laneway, and leaning against their cars parked out in front of my house, yamering away in what I think may be Cantonese. There's a little boy of maybe about 3 years running up and down the stairs. His parents smile politely at me, apologizing because their son was the one who rung the doorbell. I recognize them as a family who had come to see the house last week, and I start to wonder if maybe my parents have sold the house, moved out and forgot to tell me, and now these people are waiting for me to leave so that they can move in. After a moment that seems perposterous, so I continue to stare at them, searching for perhaps an explanation as to WHY they're loitering on my property. They notice my confusion and tell me that they're waiting for a real estate agent to come show them the house. This sends a surge of panic through my body because the house is NOT clean, I am NOT dressed, and, most importantly, I was NOT informed of a showing.

I smile and nod at this little tidbit of information and proceed to close and LOCK the door. I pick up the phone and call my mother. She'll know what to do. She's sensible, calm, rational, right? The conversation went as follows:
Meg: "Mum? It's me. Ummm, we have sort of a situation at the house."
Mum: "A situation? What is it?"
Meg: "There's a family of Chinese people sitting on our front step who want to see the house. What do I do?"
Mum: "WHAT?? Who are they??"
Meg: "The couple who came to see it last week, except they brought reinforcements this time..."
Mum: "OH MY GOD! Is the house clean? Where's the real estate agent?? Have you called Remax? I know, why don't YOU show the house??"
Meg: "WHAT? Are you nuts woman?"
Mum: "Megan! This could be a sale! How long have they been out there? You need to show them the house!"
Meg *getting impatient with the crazy lady on the phone*: "Yea, sure mum, I'll go do that right now. I'll go open the door to 15 strangers and walk them through our MESSY house while wearing my PYJAMAS and NO BRA!! Yea, I can FEEL a sale coming, can't you?"
Mum: "Oh fine. I'll call Remax."
Meg: "Thank you."

Mothers...

I run upstairs and start frantically making my bed and cleaning my room. The nice lady from Remax calls about three minutes later, telling me that she has no idea why these people are at my house. Apparently they called the agency at about 9AM saying that they wanted to see the house again, and she thinks that they may have just assumed they would be able to see it right away and proceeded to my house to wait for an agent. So now I'm freaked out that people have been standing outside my house for an HOUR while I've been ASLEEP. *shudder*. She says that my mother has given them permission to see the house ASAP (CRAZY LADY!!) and that an agent is on his way over. I tell the nice lady that my mother is, in fact, insane, and the house will not be ready to show for at LEAST a half hour. She seems to empathize with the crazy-mother situation, and says she'll tell the agent to wait for a bit so that I can clean up. I thank the nice, sane lady, hang up the phone and do a whirlwind tour of the house, straightening beds, putting away clothes, folding blankets and the like. The futon is still down from the weekend, and by some miracle (and most likely adrenalyne) I get it back up by myself. Just as I finish dressing and am throwing on my contacts, the doorbell rings again, and I hear the agent wrestle with getting the key out of the lockbox and into the door. I'm still annoyed with the mix up so instead of going down and unlocking the door, I wait for him to remember the lockbox combonation and unlock the door himself. HA!

He's very courteous, saying it was a communication error, and that it's very kind of me to allow them to see the house on such short notice. I refrain from telling him that it was, in fact, NOT me who was letting them through the house, and that the woman he talked to on the phone must have been my mother, who is at Tunney's Pasture...where I can't get her...

Assuming that it's not a problem that I'm there while they look around, I grab a book and a glass of OJ and head outside to relax in the sun while an army of people trapse through my unsuspecting house. After they're gone the agent comes outside to apologize again, and to say that the family is very interested in the house, and he hopes to have an offer on the table by tonight. I tell him that's good news (it's not really...I don't want to move). He leaves and I go back inside and call my mother back to inform her that they've been and gone and that if she ever does that again the feds won't find her body, and I'll be taking the money from the sale on my way to sunny Mexico...

Frigging...gah. I need a drink.

posted by Megan at 5:25 p.m.