Friday, May 1, 2009

What have we done?

As of 3:30 today there was still no word on our offer. It is nerve wracking to put your future into someone else's hands. Someone's hands that really want to be holding money more than anything else. I called our real estate agent, to see if he had heard anything. Nothing. He advised us to send what he calls the "shit or get off the pot" letter. Give them a deadline. At this point, the sellers are just being rude and are more than likely looking to wait out the weekend to see if any other offers come in, which is just not fair, because we really can't look or make offers on much of anything else until we hear back from them. Our other option was to just continue to wait. Since they had two offers and didn't seem to take the other (not ours) one, then it seems like they prefer ours. And Tom (our agent, if you don't remember) says that it's a good offer. So, we talked about it (over the phone, because Adam is traveling, as usual) and we did it, we gave them a deadline of 6pm Saturday. Our agent said he would be putting it together and sending it to them at 6pm today, giving them 24 hours. And all I can think to myself is...what have you done. You've just doomed yourself. You've lost the house. They're going to turn it down and then where will you be? Back to looking? Comparing everything to that one? The problem is that I can't imagine liking anything as much as that house. A townhouse just seems like an oversized apartment now and there aren't single family homes like that one for that price around. We just have to wait until something comes on the market, and a house just on the market is not going to want to budge much on price. I did the thing they tell you never to do, I fell in love with that house. I saw myself painting it and working in the yard. I saw serving a huge turkey dinner and where the Christmas tree would go. I fantasized about our life together in that house. And now I feel like it's all about to slip away. And I can just see the owner, sitting there, reading our contract and thinking, "$10,000 more and they could have had their pitiful little life there, but fuck 'em...I want the money". This is where the having a blog comes in handy. Adam is on a plane, on his way home, and I have to gather myself together and greet him when he comes in the door, because he's been gone all week and shouldn't have to come home to a wife crying over a house that may still be theirs. But I can just see it, that we won't get it. Why should we? What have we done to deserve it?

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