I had over 25 agents come through in my agent open house yesterday. (real estate agents, Kukka. Not agent, agents. Otherwise, your agent would have DEFINITELY been there) They all filled out comment sheets. My agent told me NOT to read them, but they were sitting right there on my breakfast bar, all in disarray, so I had to pile them up, and I just HAPPENED to read all of them. Then I cried. Man, agents are harsh. Almost all of the ones I saw said that the house was nice but still cluttered. Dude, i LIVE here. Yes, I have paper towels on the counter, and hand soap in the kitchen. GET OVER IT.
Almost everyone said their least favorite thing about the house was the stairs (I'm on the top, third floor). Old farts. Go to the gym. I can't do anything about the stairs, and being on the top floor is supposed to be a GOOD thing. No one above you. Vaulted ceilings. Argh.
And then half liked my very creative paint job in the living room. Half didn't. Well, I'm not painting it, so thbtttttt. My agent said that I shouldn't worry, that she was really pleased with the comments. Still, I haven't slept all week.
Pooh hid all day. He did not like all those people in the house. He's starting to act up, "missing" the litter box. I can tell that this is going to be fun.
Plus, it snowed a measly inch, and all the schools are out today. Which means I'll have to fight for the gym machines at lunch.
I really want to go back to bed now.