Je Suis Chuck

I will be listing my home for sale on July 14th.

This is later than I want to list my home. After all, the current renovations should be done by this weekend. After that, we'll need a week or so to clean and stage the bedrooms (which have been exempted from the contractor's work because we need a place to live). Ideally, I'd like to list the house around July 4th. You know, Independence Day.

And whatnot.

But Precocious Daughter will be traveling to New York to visit her father's relatives beginning on July 14th. And he has asked that we wait until that date to put the house on the market.

And in some ways, that makes a lot of sense. It will be easier to keep the house presentable for showings if the lovable but messy teenager is out of the way. And hell, since I'm probably going to take that opportunity to enjoy a getaway with my Drummer Boy, let's just say that it will be even easier to keep the house presentable with two of its three occupants out of the way.

I have little doubt that my spouse will find a way to make the place look like shit when he is the temporary sole occupant, but at least I won't have to clean up after him. Let the Realtor chide him for his slovenliness.

By the way, my Realtor totally looks like Anderson Cooper.
He's adorable.

Still, July 14th is about 10 days later than I was hoping to put the old homestead up for sale. And in the current DFW housing market, 10 days is kind of like an eternity. Most places around here are being snapped up within a week of being listed, no matter what shape they're in or how outrageously they're priced. I have a dream figure in mind for what I'd like my house to fetch, and a house three doors down from me just sold for $40K over that figure after four days on the market.

So I feel a slight sense of urgency here.

However, I just realized that July 14th is Bastille Day. And that, basically, is the French Independence Day. So my superstitious need to attach significance to the day I list my house can still be satisfied by waiting a week and a half.

Vive l'irrational.

And in the scheme of things, it may not matter. This hot housing market (I hope) isn't going to go away in a matter of weeks. So I can bide my time.

I just have to spouse-proof the place until we can have it professionally photographed.

And independence will be sweet, even if it's French.

In any language, freedom will ring soon for this girl.

Je serais heureux.

Yee-hah!