Pick up your laundry; we're coming over.

I feel like we have been running on fumes, lately; going from one thing to the next and not really getting a break in between.

At the end of September my job became a bit manic giving me little time to think of anything else other than 'OMG WHO DO I EMAIL NOW?!' I really spent a good portion of two weeks wondering what I was meant to do next and then when I finally decided on a course of action, I spent ages wondering if it was the right thing to do. No, I wasn't saving lives, feeding the hungry, or ending world debt, but when I get my head stuck in something it sort of takes over and it's all 'NOW NOW NOW!' When you see me walking down the street without any eyebrows, please don't be alarmed. That's just the stress peeling my face apart.

During this time, Bub had an uncle pass away. it was a worrying time for everyone and during the frenzy of my job, all I really wanted to do was make sure my family was okay. Bub was upset, of course, along with the MIL and all associated parties. It's hard to see your whole family hurting and not really knowing how to help. I will fully admit that when it comes to situations like these, I am complete crap. I don't know what to say or do and I have no idea how to make someone feel better about their loss because I truly believe nothing I say will make it better.

Surrounding all of this was the biggest change in our lives -- we are looking to become home-owners. We've been to the bank, we've submitted forms, and pay slips and all other necessary paperwork and we have been approved for an amount of money that I personally think is insane. Seriously? You would trust us with THAT? I see you haven't learned from your mistakes.

Either way, the bank has hung itself and we are on the lookout for a home to call our own. I had intended on keeping our hunt to myself until the papers were signed and the keys were ours but since we have been looking for a few months now to no avail, it's hard to keep my thoughts on the whole process under my cap.

I think I can safely say we have seen a billion houses so far. And every time we see one that is just not right I feel like I wasted a half hour of my life. Sure, some houses are just not to our liking and that's not their fault or ours. However, there are a ton of houses that make you think that you have been duped and the girl with the tight bun who let you in isn't a realtor but instead a very clever thief.

A few tips for people selling their homes in Dublin:

  • Clean your house if potential buyers are coming over to view it. We are more likely to purchase if your bathroom floor doesn't resemble a petri-dish.

  • Get a realtor that has a personality and wants to sell your house for you. I want information, and your realtor has it. Make sure they offer up the information without seeming like a dick. I have never bought anything from a rude person in my life. I'm not about to start now.

  • Don't lie. Or, better, don't have your realtor lie for you. Don't list the house as "having sea views" when the only way I would be able to see the sea is on the clearest day in Ireland, in the attic, while sitting on Bub's shoulders, craning my head out of the skylight. I'm more likely to buy the house where I was told off the bat that the roof needs to be fixed over the house where the realtor tried to pull one over on me.

  • No, seriously, clean your house. Put away your ironing. Make your bed. Stow away your tampons.

  • And finally, realize what kind of house you really have. I know you love your house. I know you have lived there for x amount of years. But please remember when I am offering a price, I'm not going to pay for your memories; I'm paying for the house's worth. Look at its flaws (like the lack of a drive way, or the electrics that need to be completely redone) and really think about an offer that is coming your way without dismissing it because your house is "special".

Now that the job is back to normal and our home life is a bit quieter we will continue to look for our house and I will continue to be frustrated by the process, encouraging me to detail the antics here and maybe letting my eyebrows grow back.

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Liz in Dublin