random thoughts – Day 1,927 – (Thursday) – difference of a day

“What a difference a day makes …. 24 little hours.” For sure. Maria Grever originally wrote the song in 1934 in Spanish and Dinah Washington won a Grammy for her 1959 English-language recording of the song. While in the song, “24 little hours - Brought the sun and the flowers - Where there used to be rain,” we got cooling breezes, a welcomed 20-degree temperature drop, and maybe a little rain, depending upon where you were. The A/C at The BungaLowell got a break and the windows were opened this morning when I realized it was cooler outside than in the house. The rest of the song goes into some lovey-dovey crap that is poison to my ears so I stop caring and tune out after the first part. 

Today's x-rays.

Compared to yesterday, I woke up completely exhausted thanks to not sleeping very much or very well last night. Today, there was a wrist surgery follow-up appointment with more x-rays. I wasn't too keen on the cryptic way some things were said and/or unsaid. 

For example, “the tendon isn't rupturing .... yet,” uttered after having me make a fist and then stretch my fingers while the doctor held my wrist. And, “come back in two months and I'll figure out about removing the plate. I usually wait a year, but ...” It will be six months post-surgery then. Is the tendon the consistency of shredded chicken and hanging together by a prayer? It doesn't hurt, but dang, this is making me a bit nervous. And it didn't hurt when I broke the wrist, so what's up with that?

The doctor's appointment made me more uneasy than I was a day ago, but the day wasn't all gloom. In addition to the weather relief, the day brought a couple rays of hope on the housing front. The 11:30 showing of my house went well and we are awaiting a promised document involving certain numerical information. 

Meanwhile, in a more westerly direction elsewhere in the state, a house near Mom became available for viewings today and my realtor extraordinaire and I were the first to see it, mere hours after the scheduling was available. It’s a great house. My favorite quirky feature was a small built-into-the wall radio/cassette player with speakers in the ceilings. I mean, I loved the pantry and the spacious and abundant kitchen cabinets, the walk-in shower, and a long list of other features, but the wall radio/cassette player is the one small, silly,  thing that sent me over the edge, because sometimes that is how it goes. I might have squealed a little when I hit the power button and music played from the small round speakers in the ceiling.

It turned out there was a second showing scheduled, and it turned out to be the a nice couple we met a couple weeks ago at the open house a couple doors up the street. Now I know who my fiercest competition might be getting into this particular neighborhood, seeing as we clearly have the same real estate alerts activated and are circling the ‘hood like hawks, ready to pounce for every showing. We will either come out of this adventure as mortal enemies or possibly neighbors, depending upon what else comes available in the neighborhood and who wants which one the most and has the deepest pockets. 

It could be the making of a comedy (or murder) series. “A casual acquaintance born of a lighthearted critique of an overpriced property during an open house event devolves into a fierce rivalry as the same wannabe homebuyers keep bumping into each other at real estate showings. The talons come out as each tries to be the first to see new listings and outwit and outlast each other in the competition to buy into a surprisingly desirable yet mostly unassuming 55+ neighborhood. Who has the most patience? Who has the deepest pockets? Who will win?”

There are a couple more listings that look interesting not far from Mom's, so the inventory might be loosening up a little. Let's all cross our fingers, hope, and maybe send a few prayers to Saint Joseph, patron saint of real estate.