The house I have lived in for the past five years was for sale.  It is now sold.  Today is the closing date.

Trying to sell the house ourselves has been really tough.  Not only is the situation difficult, obviously, but having to work together and coordinate schedules to host open houses, ensure the house is clean and pay the bills doesn't make it easier.  Fortunately it's been as smooth as likely possible, considering the circumstances.

It's with mixed emotions that we finally sold the house.  After being on the market since August, I didn't think we would sell in the dead of winter, but we did, and to a super sweet couple.  It seriously makes the deal even sweeter to sell to people like them.  Knowing your home is going to people who love it and are excited?  The best.  

Last night I went to the house for the last time.  It was an evening filled with emotion.  Excitement because finally after many months this is a step forward, some form of closure and, let's be honest, more money in my pocket each month (no more paying a mortgage and rent).  However, on the flip side, sadness and old memories of what that house used to be.  

As I walked around the empty rooms, I remembered the good times I spent there, the nice features and various projects and hobbies I started in that house; I learned how to sew, I started a blog, I had a walk-in closet (and two other closets for overflow, and a room dedicated to all my shoes), I started painting canvases, and more.  I tried to absorb the last views I would take of each room, hoping to hold onto the memory of how it looked, every nook and cranny.  I took photos of each room (although I have photos of it furnished) just to have, then loaded up my car with any remaining items I had to take.  Then I said my good byes, locked the door and walked out of that house for the last time ever.  It was a definitive moment, and a bittersweet one at that.  It's hard to say good bye to your first home but it's exciting to say hello to what's ahead.

I wrote the following post last month, but never posted it:

February 10th

Today is such a good day!

Last night we got an offer on our home, and we accepted!.  The first paper (ahem, official and not just verbal) offer.  I am too excited.  It's been a while since I've felt a high like this.  I've spent this morning faxing paperwork to the lawyer, getting advice, scheduling an inspection, sharing the exciting news with friends and drinking a large tea in under three minutes flat.  Woot, caffeine!

It's been such a long winded road trying to sell our home.  We listed it in August 2011 ourselves and hoped for the best.  After a month on the market, and not much activity, we decided to drop our price.  We started holding open houses every weekend and we got a lot more visits.  Still though, no offers.  We pushed through the fall and there was interest, but nothing serious or worth settling for.

In December an offer slipped through our fingers and I kicked myself afterwards.  In January an offer was ridiculous and we turned it down.  All the while continuing to pay the mortgage and for me, also rent (expensive!) on top of that.

When we got a (verbal) offer this week from someone immediately after seeing the house, we negotiated and accepted.  While waiting for the paper work, the deal fell through and it was pretty heart breaking (and frustrating).  However, we had a 'back-up plan', that being another couple traveling from out of city (and province) to come see our place (and a few others).  Fortunately they loved ours the most and made an offer within 24 hours of seeing it.  After going over the details, making a couple changes, we accepted and are supposed to close in just over three weeks!  Excitement ensues!

Selling the house is totally bitter sweet.  It's the end of something huge; our first home, my place of residence for the last (almost) five years, the house I made a home, the last piece of joint material item in our marriage, and more.  It is the materialistic item that officially symbolizes our split and it's kind of strange.  The first offer we ever got had me jumping in excitement and immediately after, in tears!  It was such a bittersweet moment.  That offer fell through, among a few others, and I've had time to adjust to really selling the home and letting it go.  This time around felt a bit different, almost like I'm more ready to let it go.  The people that are buying the house are so sweet too, and I think that really helps.  It's so nice to sell your home to a couple you connect with, like, and are genuinely nice people.  Sounds kind of cheesy but it's true!

So, pending the inspection goes well, I will be moving the last of my stuff out in a few short weeks, which also means some major packing needs to get done over the coming weeks.  Eep!  I feel happy!

I went to get my hair done Thursday night after work and first I just want to say thank you all so much for your sweet comments and kind words and advice on how to handle the situation.  I was a little anxious going there, but once we got talking, it was fine.  Turns out she was aware of my life situation, she didn't say who told her but specifically said it wasn't him.  She was so normal about everything, which made the whole ordeal a non-ordeal and so great.  I admitted I was a little apprehensive about going to see her and hoped it wouldn't be awkward.  Her response?  'Why would it be awkward!?'  Perfect!  I'm so grateful and felt at ease almost immediately.  A superb experience.

It takes forever to get my hair done as my natural colour is quite dark and getting darker as the years go by (aka, I'm aging).  She does a full head of foils and then I sit and wait for a good hour before she takes them out.  But it's worth it, so worth it, because she is amazing and I'm always super happy with the results.  Yay, fresh hair!   I (almost) feel like a new woman.

Have a great weekend!

I'm anxious.

Okay.

Well. 

Here's why:

I have a hair appointment on Thursday with my old colorist...the same girl that did Mike's hair for many, many years.  Years before she ever did my hair.  Basically, I ruined my hair with a box colour once, prompting it to turn goldfish orange, and she saved my life... er... hair.  And ever since then, we've been living in perfect-hair-colour harmony.  Until Mike and I split.  And then I figured, 'I can't go back there...it's his hair stylist...what will I say?!' (she came to our wedding!).  Even after Mike told me he doesn't go to her anymore, and I went somewhere else that was ridiculously over-priced and the girl turned my hair grey, I still didn't want to go.

However, I bit the bullet.

I called and made an appointment last week.

My appointment is this Thursday.

I'm very anxious.

The reason I'm going back to her though, is because she's amazing.  AH. MAY. ZING.  She gives me the perfect colour blonde, the price is great and I know what to expect (and she knows what I like).

I haven't coloured my hair since September and my roots are killing me.  With a potential seaside vaycay in my near future, I'm determined not to go down south with these roots because while I love the ombré look, I feel like I've missed that bandwagon and I hate jumping on after it's been a trend for over a year (with my luck, I'd likely 'jump on' only for it to be really dated in a month from now).  Plus, I simply love love love being blonde. 

Would a situation like this make you feel anxious?  Am I crazy?  Any tips?