I'm reluctant to write tonight. My mood is dark and gloomy, as much as the weather has been all day, with the first named storm of the season (actually three weeks before hurricane season actually starts). This wasn't a hurricane, or even a full tropical storm, but it qualifies as Subtropical Storm Ana, camped off the coast, raining hard on us today and tomorrow. All of the animals and I have spent the entire day indoors, and that has made us all feel crowded and snappish. I assume that's the reason I have been down all evening. Perhaps it's blended with a little of that silence I flirted with yesterday. It was quiet enough for me to come down off of the high from yesterday when we got a formalized contract for selling the condo. In the intervening hours, I've gone from feeling flush with (potential) cash to feeling hopeless that we will be able to move to where we want somewhere close to on schedule. Our realtor and one loan officer are telling us to wait until we have closed on the sale before we even apply for a pre-approval on a loan for the next place. This works against us, and I know they know it. Prices are rising so quickly in this market, even waiting a few weeks is going to cost us thousands of dollars. In my rising desperation, I've suggested we expand our search, doubling or even tripling its boundaries. I am one more bit of bad news away from agreeing to look in the one awful mountain town where I swore I would never live, for almost thirty years. This sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach tells me there's a chance we might actually end up there, and that just makes me feel worse.
I think I'm going to take my cues from Murray, who insisted on being wrapped up in his security blankie, fresh from the dryer. I'm going to curl up on a cool night, and pout while I wait for the next round of dark clouds to rain on my parade.
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