My Own Worst Enemy

We're trying to sell our house and - thankfully - are in no hurry to do so. However, it's been nearly three weeks with not even a nibble and I am starting to crack.

I am my own worst enemy.

So many things our realtor wants done to increase traffic and value - new kitchen flooring, new carpet (I admit, this blue is OBnoxious), new bathroom counter.... where does it end? A new counter screams for a new sink which then makes the lighting fixture and bathroom floor look super-aged. And what if the carpet doesn't go with the walls and new kitchen floor?

Stress.

People have been through the house and no one wants it - and that is where I get in trouble. I take it personally (as if my house is so ugly, gross and unlivable... laughable even) every time someone comes in and leaves. Rationally I know this is stupid - I've been through many, many houses in the last month that I haven't really liked and I would think it ridiculous for the home's owner to take it personal.

Anxiety.

We are not strangers, anxiety and I. I have an insane fear of new things - just ask my closest friends. The few that I've told this to that do not judge and, instead, support me and get me going. (Example: I didn't use drive-up banking until I was 22 and an automatic car wash until years later.) So there, now you all know. It's my Achilles Heel.

It percolated all week. I bailed out on a craft night at the last minute Saturday afternoon. Stressed from the house, bickering with Fred, annoyed with Elliot and overly anxious about both - people not liking MY house and not knowing this craft thing (who, what, where, will they like me, will they like my craft, is it good enough for them, what if I fart, etc.)... I cracked. Bailed out of the craft thing and just sat. Sat and stared. Stared at nothing with eyes glossed over.

Regrouped last night, took my little family out to dinner and made a decision. Fred is in charge of all necessary decisions regarding the sale of the house from this point forward. I am done. I am over it.

And - guess what? I'm okay. I'm breathing. Happier, even. I am not worrying about it any more. It's taken enough of my time and energy and - quite frankly - I'm pissed that I let it get the best of me yesterday because I was really looking forward to a night away.

Thanks for listening. Anna Seckman, signing off.