Waiting 102: Pretty Much Failing the Class.

We had a showing, as you know, on Sunday.

They came back for a second showing yesterday.

They torment.  We have heard nothing.  

Dear Nice Lady,

Please tell us you want to live in this house.  You will really like the house.  I met you because you came early and I think it would be a really good fit...the house and you.  See how I am not even calling it our house?

I think it---the house---wants to be your house.

Can you hear that?  

I think the house is pleading for you to call your realtor who will call our realtor who will call us and tell us that you also think it would be a really good fit....the house and you.

Think about it, K?

K.  Enough thinking.  Pick up the phone and start the circus.

Huh.  I was thinking what a great movie moment that would have been if I had finished typing and the phone rang and it was our realtor and it all was coming true---just as I was creating it.

What's it like in my world, you ask?  

Pretty.  And shiny.  And full of people who are too nice to torment me any longer and decide to buy our house. 

 (Dang it.  It's not going to work, huh?)

K, call me back, K?