I am really tired of trying to sell our house. It's been eight months since we originally put it on the market (with two and a half months off for the holidays and January). Heck, that's as long as we lived in our second apartment. Living without the desktop computer (or the desk), the piano, and all our books isn't too bad. Dan forgot we had that computer for awhile. Pulling the printer out of the hutch every time I use it is obnoxious, although this printer has lasted longer as a result (Peter really liked using the last one as a stepstool). I forget to pay the bills because my mail-to-be-dealt-with pile is in the front closet. My sewing stuff is in two big bags that get shoved into the basement or a closet most of the time (that would be the case even if the house wasn't on the market--a hypothetical future house will likely have a sewing/yarn/guest room). I can't even remember what toys we put into storage, but Leo may have outgrown them by the time we get them back. The rental fee for our storage facility is going up (and we have long since passed the cheapo-intro rate). I've mastered cleaning the house on an hour's notice, and that's probably a useful life skill, but having to make use of it a couple times a week has gotten very old. And now that the weather's better (thank GOODNESS), we're going to have to maintain the lawn and start mowing. I've got another couple weeks before it's safe to plant anything, but I don't want to invest much time or money into gardening when I hope to not be around for long (but putting in nice flowers will help sell it). We're on the edge of lowering the price for the first time this spring, which will hopefully bring us more buyers, but I can't believe we've had 40+ showings and no offers without any feedback we can work with. I suppose we could put in a garage, but ugh. I just want to be settled in a new place already.