Not bad for a fat girl


Fighting Discouragement

If you haven’t got anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.

We’ve all heard this bit of advice at one time or another, and in general it seems to work out pretty well most of the time. In fact it’s the general principle I’ve been following lately in terms of blog writing.

It isn’t that I don’t have anything nice to say. There are nice things that happen every day and I could spend a few minutes sharing them with you and spreading good feelings across the internet, but I don’t. I’m far too distracted right now.

I want to be positive. I like to think I’m generally a positive person. My outlook on life isn’t grim. I see the silver lining inside most clouds, and I try not to let the bastards get me down. My dad taught me that one. It’s just that I’ve been fighting discouragement lately.

I try to shut out the negative messages that creep into my brain, and for the most part, I’m pretty good at it. So good, in fact, that I manage to sabotage my efforts at self care on a pretty regular basis. Those conversations can go something like this:blaircandy_2090_453670552

“Jeez, you’re really lazy and blowing up like a balloon.”

“Shut up and pass the Cadbury mini-eggs.”


Not too productive, right? Lately though, the inner critic is being pretty persistent, and, in my opinion, quite reasonable. Damn her. Now she’s saying things like this:

“The house has been on the market a little too long. There’s a construction site across the street. Maybe you’re priced a little too high.”

She’s right, of course.


This is not my actual display. I don’t have leaves or fake food in mine.

I tried shutting her up by telling her that if I just put some nice hand towels in the bathrooms the house would sell right away. It didn’t. Then I told her that the bright new pillows on the couch would work. They didn’t. After that it was the artful¬†display consisting of a¬†Williams Sonoma cookbook strategically placed on the counter along with a few pie making supplies (I swear, it looks better than it sounds). Nope.

It’s not the house. It’s not the staging. It’s the damn construction. I can’t do a thing about it, and it’s making me discouraged. There, I said it.

I could take the house off the market, wait until the building is done, and start all over again after the weather cools off a bit (I don’t want to move in 100 degree plus heat if I can avoid it). Or I could wait until the building is done, then decide if I really want to move at all. I honestly don’t want to do either of these options.

I want to sell this house. I have loved it, but now I’m ready for a change. I’ve found a house in the neighborhood I like, and I’m ready to go. All I need to do is sell this one. It’s clean, it’s ready to go, but nobody can see past that construction. There’s only one thing left to do. Tonight I did it. The price is coming down again.

Somebody with a little foresight is going to get a great deal on a great house. It will not face a construction zone forever. It will face a gated community of single story dwellings. It won’t be awful. It will be brand new, and nicely landscaped. Somebody will enjoy it very much. Until then, I have to remain positive. Positive that this week that somebody will make me an offer I can’t refuse.