"When will we know the results?" I ask our realtor.
"In a few days." "In a couple days." "Don't forget the holiday."
All valid answers, to be sure, but of little use in calming my out-of-control nerves.
"When will we know for sure our buyers are approved?" I ask.
"Not for a while yet."
Again, true enough, but uncomfortable. To be ready to move with some grace, I need to pack stuff, but first, good sense says, it should be sorted, some things trashed, and, perhaps, some things laundered, like our long-stored blankets. We'll need blankets when we get there. The same for our heavier coats. There is not problem with the heavier clothes. We don't have any except for an odd sweater or two. Suffice it to say, the house is gradually losing its personality and feeling of home.
Then will closing happen on time? An interesting thing about closings is that the sellers have to move out before closing in most circumstances. If the deal bombs, we'll have to have the mover bring back a portion of the goods. Now that's a scary thought.
Will our temporary housing arrangements pan out? What will we do if they don't? We do have a friend who has offered us the hospitality of their home, which does calm me. My friend Randy Rawls suggested Steve and the dogs can live in my Mini Cooper and I can sleep on the roof. Very helpful.
I spoke with my friend who moved to Atlanta last fall. I remember her going through many of the same things and feeling anxious. She reassured me that I will survive.
Then, we are taking a leap of faith into a new lifestyle. I grew up in a very small town, so I have some experience with country living. Steve is a Boston-bred city boy through and through. His leap is, perhaps, with his eyes half closed but his sense of adventure and desire for change fully engaged.
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