On selling a house and moving

After a 12-hour drive, I made it back to Tennessee in one piece. More on that and the rest of my trip later.

More importantly, I made it to Nashville, where the movers were scheduled to come pack up my possessions and load them onto a truck bound for Knoxville. I've been dreaming all week that this would be a fast and painless affair and my-soon-to-be-not-my townhouse would be flawlessly empty as soon as they were done, ready to be turned over to the buyer.

Of course that's not the case. There are scraps of paper and bits of dirt to be picked up -- and no vacuum cleaner with which to pick these things up. I didn't see the movers load my vacuum onto the truck, nor did I even think to ask them to leave it here so I could use it to clean. Le sigh.

There are items in the fridge that need to be loaded into a cooler. I have two coolers. Anything that doesn't fit in them is getting tossed. This is so unlike me, but desperate lack of time calls for desperate measures. There are curtain rods to be removed. Man, I wish I had remembered to hold out my electric drill.

There are nails to be removed from the walls. I was planning on patching the nail holes quickly before I took off tonight for Knoxville, but seeing all the stuff that needs to be cleaned up and picked up and loaded, I'm thinking no go. As a peace offering, I'm leaving my crappy water hose, my shovel, some wood floor cleaner and my wine glass rack. Not to mention the beautiful flowers I planted a few weeks ago in the front and back.

Still, I am impressed with how efficiently the movers packed my stuff and loaded the truck. It did take them all day, but that's still about 13 days fewer than it would have taken me. I really don't have that much stuff, I just hate packing. Thank the heavens my company is paying for this, even though it means I'm indentured to them for another year and a half.

There was a funny moment when they discovered Matilda, my grandmother's trusty mannequin used to help construct all sorts of outfits for her and everyone else:


Moving dude: "I had to undress the lady and take her apart. She was dressed up all fancy."

Poor, naked Matilda.

Speaking of funny things. Let me tell you something funny about selling a house and Facebook. Being the resourceful person I am, I wanted to scope out the potential buyer a couple a weeks ago as soon as I discovered her name. I am a master of Google searches and her name was unusual enough that I knew I could dig something up. And I did: her public Facebook listing.

I found out she and I went to the same college and were on the same Facebook and lucky for me! she didn't have her Facebook page set to private as everyone should. So I found out all I needed to know: she's a year younger than me, we have a couple mutual friends, she's a sorority girl, a marketing director of some company I've never heard of, but most importantly she was "In the process of buying a new house, which is really exciting. Yay..now people will actually have room to come stay with me and visit!"

Bingo.

I found all this after I had made my counteroffer, which she eventually accepted, so it was of no use to me in that department, but it did help me not freak out about the rest of the closing process.

She's been counting down the days until she closes on the house (two more to go) and is really! really! really! excited about it. Her friends tell her they can't wait to see it -- they've seen some pictures she's shared with them and they say it's really cute.

Ya' dang skippy it's really cute -- I spent a lot of money making it really cute.

Her status message today was this: "(Buyer) is psyched that she closes on her new town home on Monday, and that the appraisal came in higher than the cost of the place by $2,000 :) YAY!"

You know what I call that $2,000? My capital loss. Actually, just a fraction of it. I signed my half of the paperwork today and with all the closing costs and commissions added in I'm losing about two-thirds of my down payment on the house, which is a hella lot. I put 20 percent down on a $177,000 house, so you can do the math if you're so inclined.

I'm not bitter though. OK, maybe a little bit. Whatever, I'm just glad it's almost over and am trying to focus on the sunnier days which better freakin' lay ahead.

Anyway, the moral of these stories are: get a company to both pack you and move you and keep your Facebook account set to private if you're selling your house.