Brain Stew


God, I’m tired! We’re starting to see the end, but it’s still a couple of days away. Getting this condo ready to put on the market is exhausting.

Some of the painting we’re doing are things that really needed to be done back when we first bought it, but Linda’s daughter and her roommate needed to move in quickly. So some of the less important issues were left (and lived with). Now that we need to put it back on the market, we have to take care of those issues, which have grown over the years, along with others that are necessary to, we hope, bring in top dollar.

Then, there’s the moving. We have to move furniture and décor over there for staging. The realtor will do some, but some of it is ours. Then, after it sells, again we hope, we’ll have to move it all back out.

The “we hope” qualification was there, not because we don’t think it will sell. It’s a great place, and we have no doubt that it will sell. But there’s a chance we won’t get what we want to get for it.

Another unit in the complex is now on the market, a condo with the same floorplan and same square footage as ours, for $40,000 less than ours will be listed for, much less than it’s worth. Granted, that unit is not as updated as ours, and the décor is a little bland. According to what our realtor found out, the owner just really wants to get out from under it. The HOA dues are probably killing her, too.

So, we’re hoping that the personality that shows in our unit will bring in what we want.

Meanwhile, in the last few weeks, I’ve written only about a page in my latest novel. I’ve forced myself to write these entries, and that’s good as far as writing in general goes. But my true creative love is writing fiction, the stories that I conjure in my head, and I’m feeling the lack!

And I’ve found, again, that sitting on my butt in front of my computer is no preparation for the physical labor I’ve been doing. So, besides being tired, I’m also experiencing aches and pains that remind me that I just ain’t as young as I yoosta wuz.

Oddly enough, despite how tired I am, my sleep patterns don’t change to compensate. That’s been an issue for as long as I can remember. I’ve woken up in the “wee, small hours of the morning” for so many decades, that regardless of how tired I am, I still wake up then, even on weekends. So this morning, I woke up at 4:00 a.m. That’s an hour later than the alarm I have set during the week, but still, it doesn’t satisfy the greater need I’m feeling now.

I realize that the last few entries in this record have involved me complaining about things, and I apologize to my three or four faithful readers. But, as I stated at the beginning of this journey:

Since I’m starting this at the beginning of my journey, I have no idea how it will turn out. I’ll discover the outcome right along with you. To me, that’s kind of scary in itself. I always know how my books will end. Sometimes the characters surprise me and take a different route, but they always end up where I send them. So this is completely new territory for me.

Hopefully it’ll be fun, a wild and crazy ride toward financial autonomy and international residency. But whether it’s wild and crazy or calm and orderly, I think it’ll be fun. Or frustrating. Or terrifying.

I knew there would be surprises, but they haven’t been entirely pleasant ones. The financial autonomy hasn’t come yet. That’s been something of a disappointment. The international residency is still a year in the future, but it’s been a hard road since I started it.

Meanwhile, the job I hate is still going on, supplying me with financial reward, though, I think, not enough for the frustration, and the mental and emotional anguish it causes. Our third wedding anniversary was a couple of days ago, and we acknowledged it, but haven’t had a chance to truly celebrate it.

We really hope that, soon, things will let up a little so we have a little time to breathe.