Monday, 20 August 2007

pre-wedding jitters..kind of

I took my daughter to ballet this morning, and upon my return was shocked to see a for sale sign leering at me on my front lawn - forgot about that bit. I feel a bit of the ole panic stations setting in and I am not really sure why. I am as nervous as crap, like I am staging an event or a wedding or some such theatrical performance where timing and atmosphere and all that was rehearsed must go according to plan or risk a bout of luke-warm reviews from potential ticket holders, or grumblings from the disgruntled guests who brought the expensive presents.

Speaking of staging, a friend offered to have the kids while the stager was here; she is here now. I asked her what I could do, but she shooed me away and told me to relax and make myself a cuppa. I must say, I feel entirely useless and don't really know what to do with myself (typical), so I thought I would blog instead. I could read a book I guess, but I don't think I could concentrate anyway. I promise I will post a piccie of the staged room in the next post.

I just hope the place sells quickly. We have been slaving away like who knows what trying to get this place looking like a vogue magazine on a TV week budget. I have ditched piles of stuff...one really doesn't need a whole lot to get on in this world, so why cart a whole lot of useless stuff around the globe only to have it sit there gathering dust readying itself for its next international voyage (God forbid).


Yesterday I stumbled upon a pile of suspicious looking folders. Upon opening them I found they were in fact my entire catalogue of school report cards from 1979-1990 (shudder). I remember my Mum giving them to me one time when she moved, but I don't think I have ever read them. Of course that led me to waste the next two hours as I scanned the horrors of my early academic history.


Actually it was a bit of an eye opener to read them all at once. There were some definite themes that perhaps should have been addressed: "struggles to comprehend written instructions", "extremely slow at working things out", "gets frustrated", "makes silly errors", day dreams", "needs to listen more carefully", "careless". I have long wondered if I am actually dyslexic, as such themes have continued to be issues for me - particularly the comprehension aspects. I tend to have a private panic attack whenever a timed written comprehension test is presented as part of a recruitment drive. Time and time again, this will be the part in the test that sees me exited from the program. But then again, what good is worrying about that now - the horse has bolted so to speak, and this is who I am - stick to what you are good at kiddo!

4 comments:

Tracey said...

I am constantly amazed at your references to a 'less than stellar' school career. In fact, you have me constantly rewriting my own thoughts on the value we put on school performance. Because look at how wonderfully observant and articulate and clever you are!

Am feeling the nerves with you.. For Sale signs. Stager... Keep describing it all to us, because you have a bit of 'us' (all your readers) with you on this journey. I hope that's of some comfort!

Tori said...

I am sending positive house selling vibes your way!
Good luck and don't forget to breathe.

Muse said...

Yes, we are on this journey with you... thank you for sharing it and for blogging today. Can't wait to see the photo. I also wonder what the reaction to the 'staged furniture' the kids will have. heh heh...

Take care mate, you are doing better than most. I am sure I've never been to an open inspection where anything has been staged. Usually you are trying to visualize something WITHOUT the horrible or the weird wall colors.

That reminds me, I once looked at a house that had a 'Harry Potter' room for the boy. They'd used spray foam (the kind you use for filler) on the ceiling, to look like clouds or something. Honestly, it looked more like spray vomit. No wonder they wanted to move.

:)

strauss said...

Oh Muse! That is hilarious...and rather disturbing. Imagine trying to get that stuff off the ceiling. I'd be putting it into the contract to have the ceiling restored.