How I looked when I realized how much money I had to spend to get my house ready for sale.
Only not as cute.
So I’ve decided to sell my house. I’ve been edging toward that decision for a few years and held off, mainly because the prospect of downsizing was pretty daunting. Not that I have alot of stuff–compared to others who own their own homes, I’m downright austere: living room–one couch, one chair, two end tables, plus tv/stereo; kitchen–one table and four chairs; bedroom–one bed and two dressers; an odd table and a couple of chairs. That’s the totality of my home furnishings. Apartment, here I come.
My realtor recommends that I repaint my kitchen cabinets a more neutral colour. If you recall, I’ve just spent a few years repainting said kitchen cabinets a beautiful, earthy red. I love it, the painter loved it, but in the interest of appealing to the majority of prospective buyers, the red has to go. The kitchen is open to the family room, so it’s not like it can be ignored or the painting deferred if you don’t like it. I can’t say this came as a surprise.
One thing about not using all the rooms in your house is that you forget what work needs to be done. The cat’s room (yes, you read correctly) needs painting too. I forgot about it because I’m only in there to fill up his bowl and change his litter.
And then there’s the matter of the basement stairs. I started to paint them but got tired. And they look tired too.
I never realized how onerous home ownership could be. Something weird happens in your house and immediately you wonder how much that weird thing will cost to fix.
Take, for example, my washing machine. It overflowed in December. On a Sunday, of course. I phoned the plumber (paying overtime rates) and he snaked the line, to no avail. The plumber then phoned the city, who snaked the line and removed a blockage. The city didn’t charge anything. The plumber charged 500 bucks.
Then there’s the case of the weird winter leak.
For the past couple of winters, the cat’s room had an inexplicable puddle of water at the baseboard. At first I thought it was ice-damming on the roof, but turns out it was an exposed gas pipe in the basement’s utility room which allowed house air to escape and then condense above, causing the puddle.
What could have been a major expense in the attic turned out to be a $400 fix with insulation. (That’s the purple stuff you see in the joist headers.) Still, it’s 400 bucks that’s parked on my credit card (right along with the plumber’s bill) until I can pay for it.
I’ll miss my house, but not the work and worry. What I’ll miss most is my washer and dryer. I plan on smuggling in an portable apartment washing machine into the apartment. I may be downsizing, but I’m not giving up everything. 🙂