About a week ago, I put my house on the market.
You gotta go through all your clothes, all your cabinets, all your fucking everything.
You spend a weekend or two getting rid of more stuff than you thought you had in total.
Trips to the dump.
Trips all over the joint.
You do all that and then you finally are ready.
You decide the price point with the real estate agent that you’ll list your house and then boom.
You wait for the texts to roll in and schedule the showings.
That’s where I wanna focus our time today, dear reader.
I wanna focus on the showings.
I’d say in the entire home buying process, nothing is worse than the showings.
Buying a house and shopping for a house is relatively a good time.
You get to imagine putting your stuff into each room.
“Oh, yeah.
This will be a great room to sit in on a Saturday morning with our coffee.
We can send the kids upstairs and sit on the porch just outside.
Wouldn’t that be nice?
We can put a couple of bird feeders out there and see what them birds are getting into.
We can watch people and judge them too.
It’ll be great.”
That’s buying though.
After the house is listed on the MLS, the requests start rolling in.
If you live out of the house already, it’s no biggie.
Go anytime you want.
I have two pups, two kids, and a smokin hot wife.
It is hot as fuck.
Just an unreal level of hot.
I honestly to god don’t know how I used to work outside in this.
I don’t understand how construction workers or blue-collar folks, in general, do this every day.
I really don’t.
Blue-collar workers are tougher than the US Marines.
Getting everyone out of the house requires an act of god.
Basically, everything has to be spotless at all times for weeks in this market.
Do you know how difficult that is with kids at home and out of school?
My older dog is 11 so I gotta figure things out for him.
We have NINE showings today.
From 11:45 am to 8:45 pm with nearly no gaps.
No eating at home which REALLY sucks because you are leaking money all over the street.
You watch your money drop and drop and drop.
It’s stressful as fuck unless youre like Portnoy.
Couple that with eating out all the time just isnt great.
It makes me wanna cry so hard and loud that people are concerned.
People are so scared at my weeping that they weep.
It’s hard to see a grown man cry this hard in a Starbucks.
I hate being here.
I’m basically asking the buyers to cut it off.
It’s so painful that I just need it cut it off to stop the pain.
I’m real estate Reek.
“They love it.
They can’t stop talking about where their stuff would go.”
“This one keeps saying, ‘Wow.
check out this pool.
It’s amazing.”
“I love the fact that it has an air-conditioned workshop.”
“The primary bathroom is nice!
We can fuck in there.”
“The living room has plenty of room for multiple couches.
We can probably fuck there when the kids are gone.”
“The quartz counters are great.
They are sturdy enough to fuck on those when the kids aren’t there.”
I bet they fucked after putting those in."
“The steam shower is great.
The potential buyers we’ve seen are outrageously horny.
They are kissing and feelin each other’s privates and whatnot.
I guess that’s a bonus.
I love watching people kiss and stuff.
To understand what I’m saying, think porn.
Anyway, sitting here in Starbucks and knowing I could be doing this for weeks has me spinning.
Im spinning out of control.
Im ill. Im mad.
Im sick of this.
Im sick of this.
Im ready to be in my new house.
Im sick of this.
Im ready to have this fucking house sold because Im sick this.
It’s too hot to live.
