For the last couple of days, I've shown my house to strangers. I've invited them in to look at my pantry/laundry room, my shower, and my bedroom closet. The clientele has been mixed. We had two of Snow White's lesser known friends, Smokey and Drinky, single moms, fresh divorcees, elderly gentlemen. One fish, two fish, shy fish, rude fish, overly critical fish. There are red flags all over the place, some more obvious (smells like liquor), others less obvious but more unsettling (weird vibe). Every time we felt inclined towards one person or the other, something happened on their side to make it fall through. We're not clicking with anybody, and clicking is important to us. It's also difficult for me to be the person to (wo)man the phone and show the place basically by myself (seeing how D. has a job during the day).
It's wearing me down to hear thoughtless comments (Is that yellow on the wall? - said with true contempt) and dealing with the general flakiness (Sure, I'll be there at 4 - said lady showed at 5:30). I feel like my entire life has been taken over by this, because I need to be available (for showing and telling) and the place needs to be light! and clean! and spacious!.
I've never been good at meeting or talking to strangers (HELLO! You're not actually supposed to talk to strangers!!!), so this has been extra torturous for me. Especially picking up the phone has been endlessly delightful.
In short, the tenant-finding activities are starting to have a stale aftertaste.
Having all these people trek through my space has also spooked me. The last two nights, I've been startled wide awake by something or other when I was just about to drift off to sleep, scared out of my wits, feeling like there's somebody in the house. It feels as if somehow, by their mere presence during the day, creepy/strange people have robbed me of the feeling that my house is a safe haven.
D. went to the library last night to study, and some sounds freaked me out so much that I walked through the house with my knitting needle, checking for intruders and closing all the windows.
And unfortunately, I've regressed to being too afraid to go to the bathroom in the dark in the middle of the night. The good news is that my bladder capacity is, in one word, incredible. Training, I tell you.