Need some Cool help again.
I called Jennifer Cool to make an appointment to discuss selling our house.
I can't say this is my "dream house," because I never thought I'd have a house like this. I still remember what I said when I opened the front door: "Wow!" I still feel that way about it. I'm sorry that Brian and my sister won't get to see it. I'm sorry my Mom didn't get to see it too, but that's weird since we used money from my inheritance to buy it when she passed away.
I'm telling myself it's too big now. That we never use the sitting room or dining room. I joke about not being able to find LWC 'cause it's so big. But that's just things you say when you're leaving something behind.
We'll move into an apartment and get a storage locker for all the extra stuff. I'm sure it'll be a nice place with a freaking huge TV and too many games to play. It will also have me and my wife, which are the most important amenities.
I had just taken a walk, something I did a lot last summer but haven't been doing lately. I load up the iPod and hear some cool tunes, get some sun, and actually see other people however briefly. I also decided to get lunch out today (car ride!) and buy a book to read. All these things are part of my "at home therapy" that combats Creeping Hermitism. So I felt pretty good about things when I called her.
But when I hung up with Jennifer, I felt really sad. Sometimes I just feel like Roger Murtaugh in Lethal Weapon: "I'm too old for this shit."
8 comments:
I think you bought that house with the expectations of entertaining every Friday night. Sad.
I have a lot of good memories of your home chuck
But ... I ... you ...
I wish I had some words to express how much I wish things had never changed.
I feel like we were all really characters in a sitcom and, now that it's cancelled, a lot of us just feel like we're adrift without a script. I think some of us got some fairly successful spin-offs, but it just doesn't feel the same as the original.
Is that stupid?
Not stupid, Kathy, a very apt analogy. It just doesn't feel the same...
Shocho: I'm sorry, man. I know how much you like that house. (And it's a damned nice place.)
Sorry to hear it Chuck, I really am. It is a lovely house.
Kathy, I think the sitcom analogy is very apt. Kendrick was here the other night and we went to dinner. Of course, we discussed how cool things were when we part of "The Company" at it's high point.
I too agree that the sitcom analogy is a good one. Not much more I can add on that front.
It had seemed as though things had basically "settled down" again -- that those who were leaving Virginia had done so, and those who were staying were doing that. And yet, even though this isn't moving *away*, this strangely feels like another "loss" to me. We had some good times at that house, from game nights to trivia weekends to dance-dance-offs.
(sniff)
Thanks for all the kind thoughts. We're looking at this as moving on, and we should make a sizable chunk of cash on the house, so it's been a great investment. It's not as much fun around here without you guys on Friday nights, so it's time to move on.
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