I signed a contract with a realtor on February 25th, which meant that my condo went on the market. I hadn't intended to actually get my condo on the market until April 1st - after Easter, but once I decided on which realtor I wanted to use, he had me sign some papers, took some pictures - and it was up.
Yesterday, an accepted offer was made and signed. (!!) There are still some steps - the inspection, the closing. I am going to owe a little, but it will be a manageable amount (likely close to what I would pay if I had to pay my mortgage and condo association fees in August).
It's a big sigh of relief. And, interesting to be in this process from this end.
All in all, really good for me, especially with all of the other balls that I am trying to juggle at this time.
There is, however, some sense of melancholy with this news. A sense of a time of my life ending - an experience where it was only up to me to make decisions and make things happen. I've been craving this end, and yet....
I celebrate these last 8 years of living on my own.
I'm proud that I have handled problems. That I have created 2 different homes. That I reached out when I needed help, and, with a deep breath made decisions when I needed to.
I'm proud of my condo with the lovely bamboo floors, the exploration with paint (mostly successful), and putting in a new dishwasher.
I am so very relieved that the condo is (probably) sold. It is one less big-life event to juggle. I am so excited for what is coming up in life.
But, I feel the nostalgia seeping into this time as well.
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