A...H...s!

Dear Friends,
The best thing a person on the move can do, on an eventless weekend, is to pack!
I'm dying to put my hands on some fresh boxes and bubble wrap, but I can't. The sale of my condo continues to be up in the air! The corroded valve is still sitting ugly, waiting for someone to take pity on it! The mere fact that I can't find anyone to fix it, is a good indication that there isn't really anything wrong with it. The property manager said so, the agent said so, and a certified plumber said so. Just some rust, that's all! Who is perfect? Aren't we all a bit dusty, rusty or musty, but functioning?

As I was wallowing in my condo blues, cruising my friends' friends' walls on Facebook, I came across this very meaningful poster. Love it! I wish I had it when growing up, falling in love, breaking up and signing back the offer. Pardon the profanity, but I think my potential buyer and her inspector are A...H...s!

   

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall.........

Dear Friends,
If Canadian Thanksgiving weekend is about unveiling our fall and winter clothes, for sure Easter weekend is all about airing our spring and summer wardrobe.
What started as a simple spring closet cleaning, turned into, yet, another epiphany! One minute, I was standing in front of the mirrored doors, pulling my wool skirts off the hangers, the next, I was dialling my mother's number in France. Those of you who have been following my blog regularly, know that I haven't been speaking to my mother since Christmas (26 of December, to be exact).
No, it wasn't the sunshine, the spirit of Easter, the filial love or guilt that made me do it. It wasn't brunching in a quaint Iranian restaurant that took me back to my childhood, or the bowl of reminiscences I shared with old friends, either. It could've been the Oscar winning Italian movie, depicting life's worth and worthlessness, but I doubt it.  
The culprit is my uncanny resemblance to my mother, and I'm not talking about physical features alone.
Twice a year, year after year, my mother empties and refills two large suitcases with clothes that she hopes to like again, one day. Twice a day, day after day, she cooks healthy meals for herself. And, twenty-four seven, she talks to herself, sending all sorts of different people to the devil, while examining her facial flaws in the mirror. 
Today, for a split second, I was my mother. Maybe retirement makes me think of being old, and being old, in turn, makes me behave like her. 
In order to like, and cope with the side of me that has started acting like my mother, I had to make peace with the real McCoy. 
A few years ago, I got very mad at my younger son for giving me a cushion that read, 

Tomorrow, I shall call him, to apologize!

Damaged Valves!

Dear Friends,
The one place where I couldn't poke my nose or finger (cooling/heating unit), proved to be flawed! I have no idea what this grotesque picture my agent has sent me, means or will cost! 

On Tuesday, I have to contact the property manager (who keeps the same working hours as I do), waste a day waiting for the repair crew to revive or to replace the valve, and write, yet, another cheque!  As if my to-do- and to-pay lists weren't long enough!
Current Status: Not Very Happy!
However, I accept that I have to pay penance (corroded shut off valve) for having received my asking price, so fast. Indeed, the whole thing was too good to be true, (my Karma is quite hiccup-prone). 
All there is left to do now, is to put on my hot pink runners and walk from midtown to downtown, enjoying the sunshine. It will not solve my valve issues, but it will allow me to consume more calories at lunch!

Inspection Day!

Dear Friends,
It's astonishing how much I can accomplish, when pressed for time. Cleaning, laundry, dishes and cooking! Although, broccoli/cashew soup — not a good idea for inspection day!

Current Status:
Divorced, twice, happily.
Bidding War, none.
Offer, conditional, signed back.

Usually, conditional offers are finance or certificate of status related. However, my young potential buyer is bringing in an "inspector," to give her the green light. I personally, have never inspected a condo before buying or renting it. And, if memory serves me correctly, none of my former buyers or renters had done as such, either. Inspection is usually reserved for houses. Well, what can I say, young people and their idiosyncrasies!
Today's, pre-inspection chores included, opening and closing all doors and drawers, using every power outlet and running all appliances, to make sure of everyone's healthy status. As I put on my magic socks and glide across my unit, to give the floor a fine glow, I hope that my charges will make me proud. 

Going, Going, Gone (Hopefully)!

Dear Friends,

Time: 6:09

Place: Starbucks

Days on the market: 2

Showings: 7

Pending Showing: 1

Offer: 1 (asking price)

Bidding War: hopefully!

Future Career: stager!

Now, who wouldn't want to go to war for this????????????

Insight on Exile!

Dear Friends,
Days on the Market, 1.
Showings, 3.
Hours Vagabonding, 4.
Endured Expenses, $58.29 (restaurant 41.75, magazines $16.54).
Epiphany, 1.
Lately, I've been so busy stressing out and losing my mind that I'd completely forgotten how much I enjoy reading psychology magazines! This evening, I had the pleasure of dining and wining myself in company of Psychology Today (April 2014). Of all the deep, enlightening articles that I read, I would like to share with you only one - Sexual Behaviour (I feel, I need a bit of whimsy, to survive)!

According to a survey, 55% of men regret 'not indicating their sexual attraction to someone,' and 48% of them regret 'not being more sexually adventurous in their youth.' Does it really come as a surprise that 43% of women regret 'moving too fast, or having too much sex.' While, 41% of our sisters regret 'losing their virginity to the wrong person.'

Until I repossess my home, I will probably be doing a great deal of wining, dining and reading! Stay tuned for more insightful data! No one can predict, what will short term exile bring along.

The Checklist!

Dear Friends,
Finally, my beautiful 650 sq ft apartment is ready for her close-up — fresh paint, fresh area rugs,           freshly pressed duvet cover, fresh-cut flowers and freshly washed windows! Things that I won't do for myself, but will for potential buyers, including tiptoeing in my own home! No wonder rich people move into furnished apartments or hotel rooms, when their homes are on the market. Who can live between the immaculate pages of a decorating magazine!

Starting tomorrow, every time I leave my place, I have to remember to: pull up the blinds, turn on the lights, leave the balcony door ajar, the bathroom door closed; wipe sinks and bathtub, shove damp towels in the closet, the oatmeal box in the cupboard, the coffee maker under the sink; roll out the rugs, put out the garbage and most importantly, pick up hair off the floor! Isn't hair an enigma? It can be anywhere and everywhere, but it only looks good on the head! 

Last but not least, I have to remember to remove my checklist from the front door!

Minimalism!

Dear Friends, 
Once I got my no muss, no fuss (I mean business) haircut, I was able to achieve a great deal. 
I spent two days rummaging through my past victories and failures, tossing out everything that has no bearing on my future present. In the process, I developed a better understanding of people who live in sterile environments. I've always looked down on minimalists, judging their homes to be cold and characterless. But now, I realize that minimalists are people who live in the NOW, a nostalgia-free world where planning for the future doesn’t involve provisions for rainy days.
As I look around my very clean, slick apartment, without a trace of life, I realize that I’ve, once again, reinvented myself. 
In my big storage there are only three boxes; one containing albums of essential photos that my offspring may collect after I’m dead; the other holds immigration papers, marriage certificates, divorce papers, income tax returns, property deeds, diplomas and expired passports, including the one that was issued by the Imperial Government of Iran, thirty-some years ago). The third box is home to tokens of other people’s affection, including my students.  

Wow! What a busy life, I’ve been living! No wonder I need to rest. 
I've come to believe that the past belongs to the young who need to know where they’ve come from.  And no one should really bother with the future; it’s as unreliable as unpredictable. 

I personally, need only the present. 
Hi, my name is Lili and I’ve become a minimalist!

Sunny-side-down!

Dear Friends,

This morning, my anxiety manifested itself in a very peculiar way. I stood there, in front of my innocent dishwasher, and flapped my arms vigorously, till my thighs begged for mercy. Imagine, the thought of unloading and reloading my dishwasher had overwhelmed me.  

We all have heard stories about people who die shortly after they retire. Well, now I can see why! It’s not the boredom of eventless days that will kill you, but the preparatives!

Clearly, more than one stressor is tugging at my nerves. In case you are wondering why I'm retiring, selling my condo and moving to Cobourg all at once, it's because I can't afford to hold a mortgage (never mind two) with my pension cheque.

As soon as I press the "publish" button on this post, I'm rolling up my sleeves and following the Chinese proverb; a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.  
Since I have to pack anyway, I might as well take down the pictures and the paintings in the den, and let the painter turn my sunny, stimulating writing nook, into a grey windowless hole. 
Just that you all know, henceforth, I’m not taking any responsibility for the quality of this blog.

Stage Freight!

Dear Friends,
Nothing moves the real-estate market faster than warm temperatures!
Within days, three almost identical units popped up for sale, in my building!
Nothing chases away Procrastination faster than Panic! As I am scrambling to find a painter, a plumber and a handyman (to fix-up my condo), I can feel the wicked cortisol making its way up my esophagus! 
Yesterday, I called my agent to come over for a quick consultation. Diagnosis — not so good!  
The orangish-yellow study has to be painted grey, the "huge" dining table has to be removed, the upholstered chair needs to be stored and of course the living area needs a carpet! Luckily, I don't have to worry about a thing! All I'm asked to do, is to dish out two-thousand dollars to have the "Expert" replace the bad goods with the good goods!  
In simpler times, people walked into each other's messes, looked around a bit, measured a couple of doorways and walls, pictured their old furniture in the new environment and made an offer. Nowadays, the seller has to compensate for the buyer's lack of imagination! According to my agent, my modest sprucing up plan (touching up the entrance, polishing the floors, washing the windows and of course, fixing the faucet) will not enable my condo to compete against "staged" units. 
Although I have to accept that I live in a fancy era, I'm not ready to part with my money, yet!