A House This Clean Is Not A Home
October 16, 2006
Hey, remember when I first said we were moving? That was...a very long time ago, when I first said that.
In my delusional little heart, I thought we'd have moved by now. I thought we'd be out in the suburbs, trying to figure out if any of the neighbors were the poison-Halloween-candy types and doing suburban shit like...I don't know, apple-picking or whatever the hell.
Our condo goes on the market this weekend. THIS WEEKEND.
Who moved my
And it's being offered at a price that hurts my heart a little bit. Although I imagine it will hurt our next-door neighbor's heart even more, as she paid OVER a hundred grand more on a near-identical unit just last summer. But she never holds the downstairs door open for anyone and always gives me these looks like I am some kind of serial killer so you know what? Screw her. And I'm guessing our old neighbors who got that insane price last summer are probably seeing the same decline on their million-dollar home in the suburbs.
"Oh heavens! Our house is only worth $900,000! We are RUINED!"
Screw them too!
(I am way C-R-A-N-K-Y today. I also had a touch of the S-T-O-M-A-C-H F-L-U or something this weekend and spent much time in the bathroom puking up microscopic crumbs of toast. And then I re-caulked the bathtub while I was in there.)
Oh, and I locked myself out of the building this morning, while the baby was napping INSIDE OF THE BUILDING. Biiiiig shout-out of thanks for my other neighbor who closed the downstairs door after I'd propped it open while I ran some trash out to the curb, and then refused to acknowledge my persistent buzzing on the intercom 15 seconds later, like I CAN SEE YOU, RIGHT THERE THROUGH YOUR WINDOW, COME ON MAAAAN, I ONCE RESCUED YOUR CAT WHEN YOUR CLEANING LADY LET HIM ESCAPE.
Who moved my laundry piles?
God, I'm tired. (And also NOT. PREGNANT.)
A FEW THINGS I DID NOT KNOW:
1) I am apparently responsible for washing my own windows. And apparently "rain" does not count as a washing.
2) My oven is self-cleaning! Which means it cleans it own self! Which means I could have been living with a clean oven for the past five years without any effort at all!*
3) The ugly, moldy and beat-up floor in front of my washer and dryer could have been remedied at any time with three pieces of vinyl flooring and a pair of scissors. Total cost: $2.94.
Look at my floor! My fascinating floor! Are you not fascinated? Be fascinated!
4) Paper towel holders and toasters are perhaps the most offensive items to prospective homebuyers and must be hidden away, you sick toast-eating bastard. You probably just wipe the crumbs up with a damp, non-antibacterial paper towel, too. GOD.
No paper towels or toasters here. Just gleaming white appliances and a single well-placed tomato, which is red like a heart, for the kitchen is the heart of the home, so think of the tomato like a literal beating bloody heart sitting out on your countertop. Yum!
5) The minute you box something up and stash it in a rented storage unit, you will need that exact something.
Real Estate Rule #423: Replace actual useful things on shelves with completely useless things, particularly of the wicker-basket-type variety.
5) The tax records for our unit have the square footage all wrong. I would personally like to invite the District of Columbia Office of Tax & Revenue over for a measuring party, because it's bullshit. BYOMT.**
*This is not to say I ever put any effort into cleaning my oven. Our realtor told us to give our storage area the "Crate & Barrel Treatment." I am guessing that has something to do with wicker baskets?
**Bring Your Own Measuring Tape, for I think mine is in the rented storage unit.
Our realtor told us to give our storage area the "Crate & Barrel Treatment." I am guessing that has something to do with wicker baskets?
So everything is freshly painted and scrubbed and we are all pretty much afraid to move or cook or breathe on anything. Extra hangers have been removed from the closets. I ironed the shower curtain this morning. Yes, prospective homebuyers beware: I will not be held responsible for what the bathroom looks like when you hang your own wrinkly-ass shower curtain up.
I'm going back to bed now. Wake me up when we're under contract.
This place will probably not sell, and that face right there? Knows it.