Happy 100 Days: 67

A handful of new homes listed at 9:00 this morning. One in particular is in a neighborhood so convenient, it gives me the shivers. It is lined with trees and populated by a diverse mix of folks. Life there moves at just the right pace for us. A running trail runs right past it into the woods and over to a nature center, for goodness’ sake!
 
I had thought that part of town was out of my price range. This condo not only falls within the spread; it lands near the low end.
 
By the time I break free from my meetings and head over there, it is 2:00. My real estate agent tells me that the seller already had so many offers, she closed the door and refused to show it to anyone else.
 
Five hours!
 
In the span of about one week, this housing search morphed from a tentative learning experience to a full contact sport. My adrenaline going gangbusters. Every day a sprint against the clock. The moment my phone pings with the message that the MLS is live, I park my butt at the closest computer.
 
Today, the email arrives between appointments. I make a whiplash detour into a public library and log on there. The listings receive a quick scan. Google Maps spits out coordinates. The mortgage calculator chews on the numbers. Then, my zinging brain cranks out a list. The agent has it back in her box in 30 minutes. I squeeze in a few tasks for work and clear the rest of my day.
 
We are off to the races.
 
I make my way to any unfamiliar neighborhood and start walking. I talk to strangers, kids, dogs, squirrels, anyone who dares cross my path. I have made more friends in the past week than I thought possible. I’ve been hit on, been invited out for a beer, been told which units the cops live in. I have learned how to get around the old condo biddies who tattle on folks who store bikes on their patios. I hear what other people paid even before the agent has a chance to send me comps. The property manager at one place was feeling so garrulous, he didn’t realize he talked me right out of buying when he mentioned an upcoming renovation (“It’ll really increase the property values,” he told me. Yeah, I thought. Not to mention increasing the monthly fee right up and over my price range.)
 
All of this before the agent even shows up.
 
This game ain’t no season opener. We’re in the playoffs here.
 
I’m sure I can’t sustain this level of intensity for much longer. Eventually, the boss will grow weary of my absenteeism and my car will go on strike. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that I find a place before either of those things occur.
 
Until then, I’m pacing in the dugout, keeping my shoulders warm and my legs limber. This gal is ready to rumble. Wind me up, watch me go!
 

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