To say I am stressed would be an understatement. There must be something more than stressed – say, uber stressed? I stayed at work until 7:30 on Friday typing up paperwork that I was determined to not leave for someone else to complete. Even with that, I didn’t finish. Oh, that reminds me; I have to e-mail my substitute with instructions for the next three weeks! So now I just have to let all of that go.
It is Friday and I have two more days to do whatever I can to prepare my house to be listed for sale. My buddy Juan was here today painting the interior doors (should have been done 5 years ago), and will be back tomorrow to finish. I told him today I’ll give him a key to the house, and he can come back during the week to tie up loose ends. Actually, all of this should have been done months ago, but I guess I got so used to living with all these things not being done, that it didn’t matter. Now I am fixing up the house for someone else.
It’s funny but before all of this house sale stuff, I never considered my house to be that important in terms of my identity or how people might view me – or equating it with my “worth.” Sure, I’ve decorated and given it my uniqueness, but to think that the fate of the house selling might depend on certain decorative touches or bark dust almost seems ludicrous. It’s the external stuff that always gets me – you know, “presentation is everything.” Well, I do understand though, I’m just having a gripe moment. One good thing – I haven’t thought very much about the surgery; I’ll probably fall asleep the minute I hit the hospital bed!