The money thing is all set – papers signed, approvals verbally guaranteed, just a few days until paperwork goes through.  New contract signed with different buyers who’ll appreciate the house more.  Roofer on his way as soon as the rain stops.  Attorney review should be done on both transactions by Tuesday or Wednesday.  Time to pack like mad!  (I wish I’d saved all those packing peanuts from Amazon.com!  Oh, well.)

Things always come together for us in the end, I just tend to forget that during the rough spots. 

We’d called the roofer anyway, because the roof is still under warranty, and we’d seen a tad bit of discoloration in the ceiling.  Today, our original buyers backed out of the deal (not for that reason) but the new ones will be wanting to see the house in a couple of days.  So, naturally, we are suddenly in the midst of torrential downpours.  The streets are flooded.  You can see only the top of the gazebo in Brookside park.  Even dry basements are getting damp.  And, of course, some of this water has managed to find its way through tiny cracks in the seams on the flat roof, and is now dripping happily onto black plastic garbage bags in the back bedroom.  *sigh*  We planned on getting a touch-up, as I said, but now we need to give the roofer no end of grief until he comes and really REALLY fixes the damn thing.  We had hoped to position the roof repair as a magnanimous gesture, rather than a necessary piece of labor.  Poopy house.

I do love this house, honest, and I love the neighborhood, and I’m going to miss being here, and miss all my friends, but dammit, what a pain that it pulls these kinds of shenanigans when I’m stressed out already.

I’ll be doing more packing today, and I’ve already done a ton of packing – and it has all involved going through forgotten or mostly forgotten possessions and throwing things away.  Getting rid of stuff seems to help with discarding psychological baggage, as well.  Some things are easy to toss, but others make you hesitate, and then you have to figure out what made you keep them in the first place.  Does it remind you of a happy time with the person who gave it to you?  Does it remind you of someone you’d rather forget?  Are you keeping it because the giver would make you feel guilty if you didn’t?  If you got it for yourself, do you use it?  Do you love it?  Are you keeping it only because, dammit, you paid good money for it?  (We seem to have a lot of that last kind.)  We’re still going to be moving a huge amount of stuff to the new place, and we’ll need to cut back even more as we unpack, because the new house is smaller – but I’m looking forward to it, actually.