I've recently moved, due a big ol' life change, and found myself some temporary digs. It's fine, but not someplace I'd like to be for a long haul. No yard for the kids, though there ARE lots of kids around for them to play with; and the neighbors upstairs, even though they TRY to be quiet, can't help the 20+-year-old construction from creaking. Plus which, I've never been a big fan of knowing exactly when someone I don't know is over my head cranking out a deposit to the sewer bank, if you know what I mean.
If you'll remember, a while back I posed the question to y'all of "should I get the cottage or apartment?" and you rang in loud and clear with the COTTAGE answer.
Today, finally, I put in an offer on the cottage.
At the same time someone else did.
Procrastination strikes with its cold talons of "I told you so" once again.
If I'd sent in the offer LAST week, I'd have the house by now, but NoooOOOOooo, I waited. Almost maybe Ihopenot too late. Carp it all to Henry - why did I wait????? What if their offer is better than mine? What if they offered full price? Will the agent let me know, or will the big door of opportunity slam in my face with a raspy HA! of scorn? Will I be reduced to driving past "my" cottage while someone else's children play in "my" backyard?
Oh, I can see it now. Mr and Mrs Happy trundling from their car into "my" house with the grocery bags while around them their happy children squeal with joy over the new puppy they've just brought home and birds sing in glorious harmony over their scene of domestic tranquility, while I sulk in my car, wringing my hands over my own stupidity.
(That almost rhymed.)
Gah! I hate this waiting. Mr Happy Real Estate man told me that by midday today there should be an answer to the "who wins?" question. It's 11:30 my time.
When IS midday, anyhow?
More details as events warrant. Keep those fingers crossed, please.
These is no update. It's after 2. No word at all. This is the kind of excitement I do NOT need. Winning the lottery? I could do that. Discovering a new form of life under my front porch? That would be kind of exciting. Being asked to go to Paris as George Clooney's guest (heck, as PeeWee Herman's guest!)? Totally there.