Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Thumbs Up

On Friday evening, I went to bed with my right thumb aching slightly, a little big swollen, a little bit tender at the spot where it reaches the inside of my wrist. When I woke up Saturday morning, it was three-times its normal size, I could barely touch the tender part, and I soon discovered that you can't do much when the thumb on your dominant hand is hurt.

This was one of those weird injuries that I could tell wasn't really serious—it has gotten better, progressively, every day—but would make daily tasks really irritating. Stranger still, I had no idea how I had gotten it—when had I bumped it, twisted it, wrenched it, or bruised it, to cause so much inflammation?

Now, as my thumb is back at 80%, I look around our house, and realize that without me noticing an injury taking place, a sliver of chaos is starting to take hold. Sometime in the last few weeks, our neat, organized house stubbed its thumb, and it is becoming cluttered. Given that it looks 150 times better than it did last year, why am I only drawn to noticing the small stuff, the stuff out of place?

Later this week, a realtor is coming to assess our condo, and talk through what we need to get done (quickly) to get it up on the spring market.

Like the thumb that kept smarting whenever I would forget it was hurt and would try to do something silly, like grab a glass of water, I keep looking around and noticing all the stuff that now seems out of place, cluttered, etc. We have spent close to a year purging, sorting, and organizing, and the house really works well now, but as the realtor is coming in just a few days, all I can see are the file boxes out of place, random pieces of kid clothing left in different rooms (did you know that dirty socks belong wherever you choose to take them off?), and pantry items that don't quite fit.

A house never seems messier than right before guests are coming over, but this is especially true when the guest is a realtor.

Here's hoping someone who wants a fourth-story gem in Hyde Park is thinking, "Maybe I'll start looking next month." Here's also hoping that no more hidden house injuries are uncovered in the final prep stages before market. The mad final cleaning dash begins...NOW.

1 comment:

  1. I want to make a law against removable socks. All socks must be permanently fused to the wearers' feet. It may seem harsh but it's the only way.