Real Estate as No Exit by Sartre
We are actually having a very easy time of it compared to the horror stories I keep hearing. Having a house on the market does seem to compel people to tell horror stories. I imagine it's a little like being pregnant, since it seems to me that when someone is pregnant, people tell horrible labor stories. "And my sister-in-law's best friend's ex-husband's second wife was in labor for twenty-seven hours but she thought it was just bad back pain and then she gave birth in the living room and the baby had two heads! But I'm sure you'll be fine."
Unfortunately, I have a couple of close friends who have first hand less-than-delightful real estate stories.
I am consoling myself through baking. I went to Michelle Swiniarsky's for dinner (actually, I called Michelle at work and begged her to let me bring my husband and two dogs over, offering to bring Chinese, because we had to be out of the house for four hours on a rainy evening for showings) and Michelle served us the most incredible brownies known to man. They are made with Scharfen Berger chocolate. I made them for a picnic on Saturday and they disappeared almost immediately. I think I'll make them again today.