Open House Redux
What makes it so interesting is not the actual selling of the house. That's no more or no less interesting than selling anything else. There are blogs about real estate and there are people who follow those blogs, just as there are (many more) blogs about music and (probably many less) blogs about driving a taxi.
It's the way that it completely consumes our personal life. It's pretty much inescapable. Since I work at home, having my home become a house for sale affects my work. It affects my bedroom, because my bedroom is for sale and is now a commodity. It affects my refrigerator because 'if you can smell it, you can't sell it' means that cooking with Thai fish sauce is probably a bad idea.
I was about to say that it makes it feel as if my life was being judged because making judgements about my home feels perilously close to criticizing me. But the truth is, lots of women already feel judged about our houses. They are never clean enough, and if a realtive is coming, a thousand flaws can suddenly leap out. But putting a house on the market means that all of those house insecurities suddenly matter in a whole new way. The public is passing judgement. Years ago I saw a list of stressful events that insurance adjusters recognized as having statistically significant affects on mortality. They included death of a spouse, divorce, retirement, and moving. I don't think moving really ranks up there with divorce. But stressful? Yeah, having complete strangers come in and dismiss my house is stressful. Not knowing when someone is going to come and therefore not being able to go far from home (in case I have to come and get the dogs so they are gone for any showings) is a pain in the neck. Not knowing how long it is going to go on is Chinese water torture.
So I hope we're one of the 2% who sell their house from an open house.