I’ve talked a bit here about the fact I’ve been contemplating putting my place on the market and moving.
It’s been a bittersweet decision as I currently live right opposite the beach with one of the best views in my seachange town.
But last week I put in an offer on another place – which wasn’t accepted – but was (nevertheless) the catalyst for me to go ahead and list my place for sale.
And naturally since then I’ve enjoyed my views more than any time in the past couple of years.
When I first moved here I was constantly agog at the beauty 50m or so from my verandah. And then I kinda got used to it. As you do. But I looked without realising I was doing so.
I’d glance out and notice that the swell was moving quickly, or the ocean looking particularly blue or grey. Or perhaps the tide was very high. I was never sure how I came to that conclusion but liked the fact that I’d become familiar enough with its movements and idiosyncrasies that I could sense its changes.
I’m still sure I’ve made the right decision… but that doesn’t mean I’m not sad about leaving this gorgeous spot.
It might not make sense but I’m reminded of my hairdressing experiences.
My hair will be pissing me off for months and finally I’ll make an appointment for some drastic change. And yet… the day of the appointment, my hair looks better than ever. I immediately regret my decision to make the appointment.
“Perhaps my hair is fine after all?” I think. But I force myself to remember my feelings of the past weeks or months and realise I’ve just got cold feet.
I’m sure it’s the same now. And of course… my place might not sell. It’s in the hands of the gods. Or similar.
Meanwhile, my weekend will be spent cleaning and clearing in preparation for photographs and online listing.
Do you ever suffer from buyer’s or seller’s remorse?
|I’m making an attempt to get my blogging mojo back by posting EVERY day in April. #holdme|