Displaced

My home is no longer my home. I still live and sleep there, but much of what made it my home is gone, or packed away. Inaccessible. It looks nice, but I feel like a fish out of water there. The preparations for listing it are nearly complete. The realtor is coming over tonight for a final look and to get papers signed.

I knew we'd have to make some sacrifices to get things looking the way they need to for listing. I've been surprised at the extent of it. I have vital clothes in bins under a bed. Everything is paired down to the bare, bare essentials.

As much of a drag as it is when taken to this extreme it is also probably good for us. We, like a lot of people, tend to keep too much stuff around. Forcing us to make decisions about what is really necessary will ultimately have been a useful exercise.

That said, it's going to be hard to live like this for very long. The cynical side of me wonders if this is all a part of a psychological process designed to mentally get the client (us) on the move -- a way to break down their resistance. After living like that for a while I imagine the motivation to just get it all over with becomes one of the overriding factors in making a decision. And this means you're more ready to accept lower offers, or otherwise compromise.

But that's just the cynical side of me.