Wednesday, May 26, 2004
One roadblock down -- one million to go. The sellers capitulated. The negotiations were quite interesting really because it was the brokers and myself acting as the intermediaries between two stubborn engineers (hubby being one and the owner of the house the other). It's kind of like talking to one scientist who thinks the notion of man-induced global warming is poppy cock and the other who feels the complete opposite. In this instance, I happened to err on the side of hubby only because I truly believe that having an end-of-its-life heating system sandwiched in a crawl space in the middle of the house just doesn't seem particularly safe.
Psychology is so interesting really. In retrospect, had we initially offered X-thousand dollars less with the same terms and conditions, I am quite sure the anxious-to-move sellers would have agreed in an instant. But because the seller felt offended that we might suggest that they had been living in a hazardous environment, they dug in their heels. It literally got to the point where $2,500 separated us and both sides seemed ready to walk away from the deal. Sound advice from my mother gave me the courage to stick to my guns and in the end they blinked.
So onward we barrel with this decision. What keeps me going are the windows in the new house from which every room I will see green trees and garden. Or snow. Suffice to say nature. If I don't focus on that then I think of brokers traipsing through our house, packing, yard sales, contractors, painting, proms, graduation, college orientations, PANIC WHETHER WE ARE MAKING THE RIGHT DECISION. When that happens I can't sleep. Or eat. And start looking wigged-out, heroin-esque.
Off to a good start? The first item on my punch list was to look up a professional cleaning service that will have to get rid of the urine smell in the utility closet where the 19-year-old incontinent cat used the loo. My, my, my... Under 'Cleaning Svc.-Industrial' in the yellow pages of the phone book are listed Crime and Death Scene Cleaning (Ipswich) and two Trauma Clean companies (Beverly and Peabody respectively). Good grief. I think I'll go with Sunshine Cleaning Co. in Danvers.
Psychology is so interesting really. In retrospect, had we initially offered X-thousand dollars less with the same terms and conditions, I am quite sure the anxious-to-move sellers would have agreed in an instant. But because the seller felt offended that we might suggest that they had been living in a hazardous environment, they dug in their heels. It literally got to the point where $2,500 separated us and both sides seemed ready to walk away from the deal. Sound advice from my mother gave me the courage to stick to my guns and in the end they blinked.
So onward we barrel with this decision. What keeps me going are the windows in the new house from which every room I will see green trees and garden. Or snow. Suffice to say nature. If I don't focus on that then I think of brokers traipsing through our house, packing, yard sales, contractors, painting, proms, graduation, college orientations, PANIC WHETHER WE ARE MAKING THE RIGHT DECISION. When that happens I can't sleep. Or eat. And start looking wigged-out, heroin-esque.
Off to a good start? The first item on my punch list was to look up a professional cleaning service that will have to get rid of the urine smell in the utility closet where the 19-year-old incontinent cat used the loo. My, my, my... Under 'Cleaning Svc.-Industrial' in the yellow pages of the phone book are listed Crime and Death Scene Cleaning (Ipswich) and two Trauma Clean companies (Beverly and Peabody respectively). Good grief. I think I'll go with Sunshine Cleaning Co. in Danvers.
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