That man is on the road again. The idea was that he would arrive out West in time to review all the offers that were supposed to pour in on the condo, but my confidence is faltering that we will have the bidding war I fantasized over. The condo had been shown 18 times by this afternoon, when an email report turned up. Of those realtors who offered feedback, all were complimentary for the work we did, but only one hinted that a buyer was on the hook, however tentatively. There were a couple who left their feedback in the form of a question, and I do not know whether I can or should engage to answer those inquiries. I'm guessing that I'm not supposed to, but it's really hard for me to ignore a question aimed at me, especially when a potential sale is on the line. The next week, month, and year all hinge on what happens when that deadline for offers comes tomorrow night. Failure must not be considered.
The quadrupeds and I have taken a day off while the man drives. I finally caught up on a sleep deficit, and let the entire herd play in or out, as they desired. In the heat of the day, the dogs all wanted to be inside where it was cool, and the cats all wanted to be out killing lizards. Jack brought one inside to eat, and as I carried her out to enjoy her murderous tendencies away from my furniture, she dropped the lizard. I had time to look down and see it running toward my shoes and floor-length dress, and then it vanished. I shrieked, jumped around, dropped Jackie, and ripped off my dress and shoes, trying to find the little lizard, but it was nowhere to be found. I ran my hands all over my body and hair, shaking my pony tail and twisting to see my back in a mirror, but I didn't find a little green reptile clinging to me anywhere. It was a mystery I never solved. I'm still a little creeped out. I keep pretending he ran through the open door while I was whipping my dress over my head, but I know it's a lie.
Murray and I don't quite know what to make of each other. This is the first extended period we've spent alone since he came here. The last time that man made this drive, I was fresh out of surgery and we had to board Murray. This time it's all me trying to get him in and out of his magic wheels and out into the yard before anything messy comes out of him. Day one, failure. At least it was an easy cleanup on the deck. This evening, as I'm lost in a random mix of 70s country, listening to Waylon, Willie, and the boys, Murray keeps looking around for his man. I had to offer to put him to bed four or five times before he got the hint that his man wouldn't tuck him in tonight, and he let me put him on his bed. I wrapped his blanket around his head and shoulders, just like he likes it, and he settled down. But he's still confused. Just wait until the biggest part of the move starts. Everyone will be as lost as Murray is now, especially me.
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