I have been informed that I am a bad blogger and have not provided nearly enough updates! Which makes me feel guilty enough to blog and also cool enough that people are actually reading this! (and by people I mean the 2 people I know who read it and then ask for more).
It was a busy busy weekend! Christian and I took off on Friday to head up to Minneapolis. It had been a few months since we were up there last and after the 1 1/2 years of going up there VERY frequently, I was going through MPLS withdrawal.
There's a story within a story here - which I'll tell first. We left the house in a bit of disarray...we haven't finished up w/ our painting project and so there was some of that strewn about. We had just finished doing about a weeks worth of dishes that morning so they were literally taking over the sink / counter space. I had dug through the hamper to find clothes I needed to pack (yes, now you know, I do NOT wash my jeans after each wear...so there). We were on the road for about an hour when I get an e-mail, followed by a call, followed by a text that someone wanted to come look at the house Saturday afternoon. My mind immediately traveled to the underwear I knew had made its way out of the hamper and onto the closet floor. I saw flashes of the folded laundry (again, some underwear) on the chair in the living room. (Side note: I realize this post makes me sound like the messiest person ever, but for real, I'm usually slightly neater than this. And I am being honest, because I did say "usually" and "slightly". I know I'm not a neat & tidy person - no matter how much I wish I was!)
I immediately put on my spazzy pants and Christian (sick of my spazzing I'm sure) told me to just say no to the appointment. This made sense, I'll just say no and they'll find another time to come. Perfect. No more worrying about the private showing of my delicates collection.
About a half an hour later (and after removal of my spazzy pants), my realtor called me back. The potential buyers were from out of town. Only here for one day. And were looking at other condos in my neighborhood. GAH!
My wonderful mother agreed to hide the delicates when she came to pick up the dog. And they even went way deeper. They vacuumed, they cleaned, they picked up and they made the house look presentable! (I'm much more comfortable w/ my mom picking up my underwear than ya know...my realtor - I'm pretty sure commission doesn't cover that).
So in the end, it worked out. They came through on Saturday and looked at the house. And get this...the bastards didn't even buy the house! (ok, maybe bastards is a little harsh....and maybe it was a TAD presumptuous to assume that just because they saw my house they'd immediately be leaving a briefcase of cash on the kitchen counter...)