Trying to psych myself up to call the realtor tomorrow. I'm scared to death. Not of the realtor, but that once I call & put the house on the market there's no turning back. No matter how many times I've moved away (there have been several), I've always had my home to run back to. Shutting the door on that part of my life is not easy. You can dismiss astrology all you want, but Cancers are connected - emotionally bound - to their homes like you wouldn't believe. I should apologize now to the poor family who will take up residence on this property 50 years from now..."sorry folks, didn't mean to haunt you. Can't help it. I'm moody, but really harmless underneath it all."
I was going to put up a photo of the lovely garage wall that's causing me so much stress - but I couldn't find one. I did stumble across this photo that I took last March, which I'm convinced is the ghost of my youth sneaking in the back door of the old Limelight in NYC, sans ID but with gold VIP card. Yes, it could be steam rising from a manhole, but I didn't see it when I took the photo & normally when I take a shot I'm aware of every element appearing within the frame. Keeps up the haunting theme anyway.
Talked to my brother tonight - the one worth talking to. Hmm, should I delete that snarky comment? Nah, oldest brother lives in a ghost town - LITERALLY! He will never, ever get a computer. He's working his way up to mountain man status, and I believe he'll get there someday, dammit!
Anyhow, cool brother calls me at sort of a bad time - for him, it turns out. See, I was fine until he called & made me realize I was painting the house all by myself. Kind of like the kid who falls but won't cry until you look, I suppose. Anyhow, I asked him where my brothers were & why they weren't here helping me with all of this crap. "They're assholes" he tells me. That's why he's the brother worth talking to. I love him.
