We got an offer on our Marco Island place today. It was a very lowball offer from another real estate agent, who seemed to just be "fishing." We countered the offer, but the numbers are so far apart, I'm sure we will never hear from that person again.
Hopefully it's a sign of more to come...
This week is Thanksgiving. I will be going home to the 20 degrees, and to the warm hugs of family. Sounds really good, all of it.
It's a week to take time out and think about being grateful, about what is right in life. It seems more important this year, when my family is separated and we mostly talk about what's wrong about that.
But in the scheme of things, we live great lives. We are temporarily out of synch, not where we want to be. But we live great lives.
We complain that it's cold when it's 60 (here in San Diego) or 20 (in Chicago). But we don't know the cold of Siberia, in an unheated home with plastic on the windows, and no socks.
We're starving by lunchtime, but we truly don't know the meaning of that word.
We make holiday wish lists that mostly include more of what we already have. We have no idea what it's like to be without.
Strangers are kind to us. We can go to the doctor whenever we want to. We don't have to sleep lightly at night, thinking we are unsafe. We have fresh water every day. Transportation to wherever we wish, whenever we wish. We have love, and the time to enjoy it.
This year, I'm thankful for all those scarybad things that I don't know and have never experienced. That my complaining is the complaining of a loved, educated, healthy, and in so many ways, wealthy person.
Yesterday, Chicago awoke to 19 degree temperatures and snow flurries! Here was what the weatherman wrote in today's Chicago Tribune:
high: 30
low: 13
January-level chill; the coldest November 17 in 46 years! Sunny, readings well below normal. The coldest high here since March 8. Winds ease but afternoon windchills only return to the teens. Increasing cloudiness Thursday night. A bit of light snow or some flurries arrive after midnight. Steady/slowly rising readings late.
Reality is setting in. They are there, in the cold and the wind, and I am here, where I am starting to feel the difference between 61 and 65. I feel terrible that the houses aren't selling and they are having to endure what we thought we would miss: another Chicago winter.
Sarah is in a talent show this Friday. As it turns out, she is the only one in her 3rd grade class who was selected and she will perform for the whole school along with kids from other classes. This is a big moment for Sarah! She will be playing 10 Chocolate Cookies on the piano and no doubt, she will do a great job and look super cute. It's the first such performance that I will miss.
Sarah was also selected to read aloud in the school holiday performance, something she's been wanting to do since she first started participating in them back in Kindergarten. This too, I will miss.
Don't get me wrong, I'm really happy about everything in our lives and think that the current arrangement is the best for all, under the circumstances. But the circumstances are starting to bug me.
I spent a full week at work last week. And it was great! With 40 people in the agency, it took me only 15 minutes to meet everyone that I hadn't previously met (though, I was tested on everyone's name on Friday and I got a C, so maybe I should have taken 20 minutes).
So far I have contributed to a pitch and about half the clients. And I've read nearly everything that's been published for the last 2 years.
I was most impressed by everyone's zeal, knowledge, and professionalism. In a city that's known for being laid back (I saw the research on San Diego for the Convention & Visitors Bureau client last week, so I am not just guessing here), NYCA is anything but. I think I have finally found a place where my own energy will be matched by everyone in the building's.
The evenings were (how shall I put this) boring. But that's okay. I adjusted to the time change and read a lot. This week I will meet up with some old friends that I have not seen in awhile, and start scouting out all the things we'll need when we finally do move. Doctors, lawyers, temples. Corvette places.
I have been eating this stuff called Flax cereal for the past 3 days. This morning it started to taste good.
It's my first day at work, and I guess, my 3rd official day as a San Diegan (San Diegoer? San Diegite?). So I do know a few more things now.
Last week, Don drove my car out to San Diego, and I stayed at home with the kids for 3 whole days.
And I use that term very loosely... I went to work and had babysitting help during the day.
And still. It. Was. Hard.
Let me detail for you, 8 p.m. to 8:17 p.m. on any given night.
8 p.m. Sarah, you need to practice piano before you go to bed. Go do it.
But I want to watch That's So Raven. I haven't watched TV all day, Mom!!!
Go play piano. I don't want to hear about TV.
That's so unfair. Dad lets me watch TV!
GODOIT!!!!
(She storms off to the piano. I hear paper fluttering and angry playing.)
8:02 p.m. Dogs are pacing. They have to go out.
8:03 p.m. Outside with the dogs. Becca comes out. She isn't wearing any pants. Put the dogs on the outdoor chain and get her back inside.
8:04 p.m. Retrieve the dogs. It is now raining. They look forlorn.
8:05 p.m. Drying off the dogs. Sarah is stuck on her new piece. Have to help her through a few measures. Phone is ringing. The machine picks it up. It's our realtor. Have to call her back after the kids are in bed.
8:06 p.m. Forgot Becca has no pants on. Ask her to tell me the story of how the pants got off. I get the runaround from a 3 year old. Ask her where the pants are. She put them in the hamper. Re-pants her.
8:08 p.m. Packing lunch for Sarah. Getting Sarah's allergy meds ready for her. Getting the homework sheet out for tomorrow. Cleaning up dinner dishes. Doing a Spongebob puzzle. All at the same time?
8:11 p.m. Sarah is finished practicing and is taking her allergy medication in front of That's So Raven. She is "starving." Too bad, no eating right before bed. Reprise of "that's so unfair, Dad lets me." We practice the hard spelling words during a commercial.
8:12 p.m. Becca is playing too rough with Eddie. Eddie is growling at her. I send them both to different corners. The dogs spot a cat coming downstairs and take off after it. Phone rings again. It's my mother. I could pick it up, but I don't. I don't want to scare her.
8:13 p.m. Cleaning up the living room. Shoot, I forgot to feed the fish. Start defrosting food. Throw in a load of laundry. Pour a glass of water for Sarah.
8:15 p.m. Heading upstairs with the kids for a bath. Becca climbs on the back of the office sofa, which gets her put into the corner again. Sarah's room is a mess due to an unexpected mid-evening outfit change; help her clean it. Becca gets the first bath while Sarah picks out her clothes for tomorrow. Sort the mail.
8:17 p.m. Call husband on his cell phone and tell him he is the greatest husband and father in the world. Because that's just 17 minutes of it!