There I was, all proud of my metaphors from last night. I pictured us ready to take off and race against other buyers, in a cutthroat market. We were practically giddy at the baseball game last night, we were so relieved to have a green light. Not sixteen hours later, we've had a complete reversal of fortune. The money the bank was offering us for a house? Contingent on selling the Park. Needless to say, that has thrown a real wrench in the works. Back to the plan we hoped not to execute. Things are going to be hectic and stressful around here for the next few weeks. Lots of projects to complete quickly, so we can list as soon as possible. We are cranky and dyspeptic and yelling at each other over nothing. But needs must when the devil vomits in your kettle, as the line from Blackadder goes. We have a deadline to meet.
In the meantime, the Mr and I are thinking about going out on a date night, for dinner and maybe a showing of a certain post-apocalyptic franchise reboot. Nobody look. There is a better than 50-50 chance I'm going to have an intentional glutening. It's that or I down a whole lot of scotch, and the yeast rolls they give you at the steak house are a lot cheaper.
Don't wait up. It's going to be a late night.
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