Slenderman Wants My House

I’m pretty sure my next-door neighbor is Slenderman. Her name is Betty and she’s pretty stealthy for a woman pushing ninety. I am trying to sell my house and was working outside this morning. When I looked up at my back door from the patio, she was in my house staring at me like a spook through the screen. Scared the sh!t out of me. Who does that? Crazy Betty is not the last of the lookee-loos interested in my house. I have four more showings today alone, which makes it difficult for me to get any other work done. Also, my cats are hiding in the basement ceiling.

Selling a house is a lot of work, especially if you’re like me and decide that having a garage sale at the same time is a good idea. Yes, you get rid of a lot of stuff and make a little extra cash, but the work involved is Herculean in nature. Or maybe there’s a better metaphor than that since Hercules is much stronger than I am. Even with a great deal of help (which I was fortunate to have—thanks to friends and family) it’s still exhausting and time consuming just to get ready.

One of the weirdest things is how clean it is. I am not a cleaner. Not because I’m lazy but because I just don’t care. My house has probably never been this clean the whole time I’ve lived in it. It also means I can’t find anything. Where did I put all those unpaid bills? I think some of them are due. Also, I hid all the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. I’m clever like that. Guess where I hid the dirty laundry.

So Crazy Betty from next door thinks she wants to buy my house (which I find very strange) and she even tried to guilt trip me about not “checking with her first” before hiring a realtor. (Seriously, who does that?) Also, I call her Crazy Betty because she is a loon, not because she wants to buy my house; although, that is a symptom of the larger issue. She told my realtor the house was already sold. To whom, Betty? I haven’t gotten any offers yet.

Anyway, I hope that the work I’ve done so far pays off. I’m not looking forward to staying away from my house all day. I feel like I need a day off and I’m not even working right now. This isn’t even the first house I’ve ever sold but I honestly don’t remember working this hard before. I am suspicious that might be because I am older now. Meaning either I am more conscientious now, or in my old age I tire more easily. It’s probably both. Sigh. You kids get off my lawn and so forth.

In summation, I’m selling my house and everything in it. Make an offer before Slenderman gets me. The cats are too traumatized to defend me.