I’ll be glad when it’s done

Monday August 8, 2005


Stickford, Aug,'05
The darker side of Dolly


This was one of those truly horrid days you dread when you’re selling houses. Like, the feedback that doesn’t turn up. I had my ear tuned to the phone all day and… nothing. I’ll ring the agent tomorrow to see what yesterday’s viewers thought, and learn of their decision.

Worse than that, though, is the dull dreariness of cleaning and tidying the house early and then sitting back to wait for viewers, convinced somehow for no better reason than wishful thinking that this’ll be the day. And waiting. And waiting. And, finally, as the clock ticks past five-thirty in the evening and you know the agent is shutting up shop for the day, realizing that you’ve wasted a perfectly good day.

I am not enjoying this. It’s clear, though, that we are likely to be teetering on the edge of a deal, with at least two hot prospects in the process of making up their minds, so I’m stuck with it. It’s not that it’s onerous but it sure as hell is nail-bitingly boring.

It was much easier to bear before Graham departed, going ahead to Somerset to take up his new job. We talk at least once a day but it’s not the same.

Small wonder I spend so much time napping. When I get bored with sitting around waiting I play piano for a bit—that doesn’t make a mess. Or I’ll read; I’m romping through the latest Harry Potter much faster than makes me comfortable. Like a box of good chocolates, I prefer a restrained approach to a book, savouring no more than one or two chapters a day.

Overall, I’m doing pretty well. But I’m not enjoying it and I shall be thoroughly glad when it’s done.

 

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