i am here to report that it's very stressful to sell your house. or actually, to get ready to sell your house. you find yourself watching your husband doing all sorts of things that should have been done ages ago--painting those closet doors, finishing up the baseboards, pudsing the outside of the house (like stucco without the swirly frosting-like look--it just covers up the bricks), painting all that 70s brown wood on the outside of the house black, cleaning like mad (or having the cleaning girls clean like mad while you tidy like mad), trying to keep the kids entertained and from making too much of a big mess, baking gingerbread, lighting candles, making a new table runner (because you felt you must for the photos).
and then, the photographer (whom the realty company made you use) shows up two hours before you expect her and she wants drawings of the house and you can't find what husband has done with those notebooks of the drawings and you try to call him 15 times, but his phone is on silent, so you not so silently take his name in vain while you frantically try to locate the friggin' drawings with visions of his blood satisfyingly splattered on the walls above his desk swarming in your head. and the guy who makes the report on the house is here too and he's asking you to make copies of things. and you just want to get the studio ready for photos after three girls made new plushies creatures all weekend.
which turned out very well, but left a sea of bits of fabric in their wake. and you thought you had 'til noon to get it ready, so you were really, really surprised to find the photographer, who incidentally, has a canon (insert huge sigh here), at your door at 10. and you're not sure about the angles she's taking and she won't really listen to you as to what the best angles are in YOUR blue room and it seems she doesn't really want to take more than 1 picture of each room, which you think is really pretty poor considering the small fortune (equivalent of 3 50mm 1:4 nikkor lenses) you are paying her to take these photos of your house with her friggin' copy machine.
#77 - reversible table runner
all you can say is that they'd better be better than your own photos or you are definitely going to be filling that grudge book that spud gave you. because you already devoted several pages to husband and his lack of answering his phone and telling you the wrong time for the photographer lady. and in fact, you actually told him when he got home that you were breaking up with him. at least 'til 4, when you're going to meet him at tivoli.