The Big Yellow Joint

So our house went up for sale on Tuesday night. I had to work Wednesday, but I figured people wouldn't be rushing out to look at my house so I was probably safe leaving the dog home alone for a day. Whatever. I had three people look before noon, three more that evening, and four offers the next day. The most stunning part about moving and the house we've decided to buy is that I feel like the new house is so out of our league, but this house, THIS HOUSE, has afforded us the opportunity. I'm not sure I ever really cared about this house, but I'm sure feeling nostalgic now. This is where both my daughters were born, where we lost our first dog together. I really am going to miss it.




UPDATE
Well, so far everything has been very smooth, moving right along. We sold our house for $11,000 more than we wanted for it, so that's a huge bonus. Now I've started stressing about the moving part. For a month there, it was all CLEAN, CLEAN, CLEAN. Now I'm thinking, man, Eric will still be in school the three days we have to get out of this house, so I'm going to end up doing most of the packing part myself. He'll have to grab a friend and move heavy stuff out when he gets home. I'm sure he'll take a day or two off, but it's going to be insane.

A few years back, my stove quit heating to the proper temperatures required to bake stuff. Since I consider myself the girl most likely to try and fix it herself to hopefully save some money, I spent a month or so poking around, turning things on and off, pulling the stove out and studying the back, before finally calling Sears Home Appliance Repair. The guy who came out to fix the stove said, Man, if you'd have kept doing what you were doing, you probably would have fixed it. There was this metal panel on the back that I didn't figure I ought to remove, so I didn't. If I had removed that panel, I would have probably seen what needed to be fixed and been able to do it myself. Fast forward a couple of years and someone leaves a plastic bowl on a warm burner, thereby melting aforementioned plastic bowl to the burner. I spent a good amount of time thinking, Man, if I could just get this plastic picked off, the burner would be fine. After nearly severing one or more of my court reporting (ABSOLUTELY ESSENTIAL) fingers while cutting at the plastic with a knife, I finally broke down and bought a new burner element. My parents happened to be out visiting and we spent the weekend trying to remove the old element to install the new element. Since we are probably two weeks away from putting our house on the market, I figured now would be the time to get Sears in here to fix the stove. After verifying that the element couldn't simply be replaced and that a new one would run $220, including labor, the fix-it guy said, If I could just get this plastic off, it would be fine and I'd save you a bundle. Oh, no, I've tried that. Well, 15 minutes later, the plastic is off and I'm out $150 bucks.

I know it's not pretty, and I am planning to get new drip pans and metal liners, but it's fixed. $150 BUCKS.









On a different note, yesterday I had a raging sinus headache, which I've staved off today by loading up on caffeine early, but now my head feels like it's floating a couple of inches above my body and my nose is ALL THE WAY plugged up.



And since I think it's sort of pathetic that the first picture I posted on my blog is a picture of my Kenmore Hotpoint burner, I'm also going to post this picture of my girls in a rare moment when they weren't fighting and instead were posing for pictures.