I’m 32 and my memory is going. It’s always been like a sieve, I suppose…shouldn’t be surprised that it’s vanishing now like morning mist. Still, it’s lead to some embarrassing situations over the last few weeks, especially since we’re selling our home and that’s always a leading cause of unnecessary stress. Stress makes it worse, I’m fairly sure.
Okay, so our home is a bit…vintage. It’s nice enough, but it was built about 40 years ago and you can really tell from the décor. Funky wallpaper, basically. We were having trouble selling, so we turned to a property stylist Melbourne real estate agents recommended to us. Took me a week to remember to make the call, and then I wasn’t there when they actually came along. I came back from work, walked into the house and found a complete stranger doing what I thought was insulting my chandelier, which happens to be the one vintage thing in the home I sort of don’t mind.
So then I gave them what for, asking who the heck they thought they were coming in and telling us that we needed to change the way we were living. That’s when Glen gently reminded me that we’d booked a property stylist, and I died a little bit inside from intense, searing-hot embarrassment. I just started almost yelling at someone for doing what we hired them to do. At this point I expect that the estate agent is going to come to the door and I’ll tell them in a huff that we never wanted to move. Or maybe we’ll have an open day, go out while they’re showing people around and I’ll freak out because I’ll see signs of people being in the house. Glen has been great through the whole thing, but he’s not psychic; he can’t tell when I’m about to forget something!
And then we’ll end up following the advice of the home staging expert, the furniture will shift, the wallpaper will change and maybe I’ll walk down the stairs one morning and wonder if I’m in the right house. I really need to start taking medication, or something…