"Well, we almost had 'em." Jeff said, encouragingly. He meant the family that liked the house so much, but the gap between what they felt they could afford and the cost of the house was too great, even if we made some concessions.

The house did go back on the market officially on Sunday, so we are now into round two of trying to sell it. Our realtors, Jeff and Susan, say that the phones are starting to ring and the unseasonably mild weather has people in the frame of mind to start looking.

It turns out that The Magic 8 Ball was wrong: we didn't sell the house the first day it was back on the market. Score one for common sense....

I did nothing all weekend besides organize stuff and do laundry. And there are still whole rooms of the new house that are in disarray. Sometimes I think that I have become used to a certain level of chaos in my surroundings, and, while it bothers me it doesn't KILL me any more. One thing I'm sure of. All that paperwork, old bills, tax forms, etc are all going to be right where I left them. They're not like cats. They're not about to wander off of they are unattended. I literally have all the time in the world to organize them.

Of course, if I'm not careful, I'll lose something really important, like my insurance card in all that debris. It never ceases to amaze me how easy it is to lose important papers - like the title to the car, yet I still have a promotional post card from a cruise we thought we might go on on our honeymoon. What is up with all that paper? Is it multiplying there in the home office of the old house? I'd throw away REAMS of it every week. Duplicate bills, useless insurance information from insurance I had three jobs ago, post cards telling me that soap was 50% off someplace, Money Mailer, offers to refinance my mortgage and / or repair my credit ( note, if you actually sit down and read the fine print on these things it WILL curl your hair!), a financial planning newsletter with information on how to do things like retire a millionaire - very little use when part of your grocery budget is in quarters that you have located in between the sofa cushions. Oh, yeah, and then there are the offers directed to The Hub's business by people who are clearly not aware that his business is him, his tools, and the jeep which is now being held together by spit, bailing wire, and prayer. "Gee, honey, do you think we ought to sign Winston up for this customer service seminar?"

Of course, my dog couldn't possibly be any worse as a CSR than the reps at Verizon. I spent all morning today trying to get phone service at the new house. Not only could I not even speak to a human being, "because of heavy call volume", there was no way to even leave a message for one. I was just supposed to "call back at a later time", or I could reach them on the web. I COULD, if my modem were connected to a working phone or DSL line, which it isn't because I'm calling to set up new phone service!!! If this is how they treat the people who aren't even their customer yet it doesn't give you a very warm fuzzy feeling about getting any additional services with them. For instance, I was going to inquire about high speed internet service with them, but I'm very unlikely to do so now, since I'm almost sure if it goes down they'll be no hope of getting a human to help me. In fact, I wonder if I can get local phone service through some other carrier, they burnt me up so much! I'll give the devil his due, you can't beat their reliability on their cell service, but any other area of Verizon customer service stinks worse than Winston's ears when they haven't been cleaned. And that's saying something!

Back to all the junk mail, though, we're grateful for it now, because we use it as kindling to light the fireplace insert. Also, there's nothing as quite as satisfying as using the 49th overdue notice you've gotten in 30 days from your car company to get a little heat into the house ( Note to creditors - it isn't going to help you get paid if you bomb my house with correspondance. I knew I was late to begin with, the first notice gave me all the reminder I needed. And I bet you could lower my interest rates if you didn't feel the need to print everything in red ink. Hell, if I didn't have to read all this mail, I'd probably have time for a whole part-time job!) The worst part is, my credit / bill situation is looking up - I'm not even that far behind any more. But because I have been in the past they must just press a button to whomp me with nasty-grams as a preventative measure.

I wonder if it's safe to turn Money Mailer ads into origami and give them to the pair-a-tweeters as toys? Now THAT'S recycling!

So, tonight at work I asked my co-workers Magic 8 Ball if it was ever going to give me a true answer. "Better not tell you now" it said. Hmm. If I didn't know better, I'd almost think it had some sense of self preservation!