so the agent for our buy sends a message this am:
Good Morning -
I got an email about the appraisal. I don't know what they are talking about relative to a plumbing issue. Can you forward me a copy of the appraisal?
you should know we are to the wire now - both houses closing in less than a week.
this week I've been packing in earnest but my goal today is to finish two rooms. in spite of having many boxes filled and few of our things remaining, this goal appears impossible. the house is still cluttered. I can't believe it!
add to it today I'm tearful. I'm leaving my beautiful fits like a glove home. a few more days and kumbaya and goodbye. sad.
in this weird weepy emotional state I am honestly surprised to find myself in, I read the agent's email and feel my blood pressure give a start...ooh....wha?
next he responds - no problem - the water has been turned off.
my stomach ignites - NO water? why is there no water in the pipes? what kind of crazy nanny state lunacy is this - no water? my stomach is churning, my bp definitely creeping...
I wonder if there’s electricity in the house? I ask. no answer. my mind races, my face is hot as I envision my husband and I on moving day - he, an intense man who startles easily and me, equally nuts, both of us jumping and screaming like crackaddicts as we engage in toilet flushing and turning on of faucets while pipes bang and scream at us.
worried - this is not going well.
I lose track of my little frother. I live for my frother. it is sane and civilized in the midst of this savage madness and it makes my coffee pretty. but I can't find it. lately, being as old as fuck, I take items and casually leave them everywhere. I'm either alzheimer's bound or I envision myself growing older and weird and smelly with forgotten things stuck to me. this is not too far down the line. I own it.
I haven't left the keys in the refrigerator lately but I've left things in places I don't even remember being in. like last week, I set an frozen fruit pop down somewhere and then managed to find it before it melted in the drawer I had just emptied. so there you have it. bring on big pharma solutions!
I search for the beloved frother. it turns up behind something I thought was packed, lying there, quietly waiting for me. it hadn't left the premises. my heart fills with hope.
looking around, it occurs to me the kitchen will never be emptied. it's simply not possible. I don't know why. I recall it was empty when we moved in, but I can't say for sure.
moving on. I fill more boxes. I drink more coffee. I mindfuck myself wondering whether I should pack all the dishes or not.
I notice over time I’ve become obsessed with accumulating cleaning products. I should take pictures because you can't believe how many cleaning products there are in this house. many many cleaning products for each of the three levels. this includes 4 vacuum cleaners, all working. I think about this because it's not like my house has ever been white glove clean. I wonder how much all these products have cost over time. I wonder which of them are the best.
I decide to take them all.
the packing continues.