365 RANDOM DAYS OF TEAM ZYBKO

DAY #82

January 15th 2012

Doctors Office White

Preparing to paint over the walls in my home. Getting ready for it be on the market. I'm being a really big baby about it. I know what needs to be done, I've done it before. Potential buyers do not want to see personalized anything. Well everything in our 'castle' is personal to me. I know I am being super dramatic about the entire process. We aren't moving across town or down the street like last time. This time, skipping town for good. 11 years ago I thought I had been sentenced to death.

Didn't even know Florence existed.

"Honey, are you sure there is no Starbucks? Not even a Target?"

"I don't care how good sweet tea taste and I'm positive I will never eat any food dish called chicken bog."

I suppose now I can admit I was a bit of a Yankee snob.

I have changed a ton since then, for sure. More than just my taste buds.

Southern PEE CAN pie, oh yay, bring it on, a la mode please.

Leaving Florence which I now proudly call home seems tougher than I would imagined. Having given birth to three of our babies at Carolina's Hospital , they too call this small town home. Having been trained and taught to answer grown ups using Ma'am and sir, accordingly. I now think this is normal, like a boiled peanut. Wonder who ever thought of that.

I cried when the Realtor lady took an informal tour of the house. I tried to keep my heart together. I figured it would be tough. I was worried about that.

Timing of 'that time of the month' was a little cruel and surely added to my emotional state of mind.

First stop, my bright green almost neon painted dining room.

The nucleus of the house for sure.

Wiping away tears with my sleeve as she kept talking.

Wah, wah, wah like Charlie Browns teacher, I wasn't truly listening.

I turn my head, too embarrassed I was reacting this way.

Bad move, wrong direction.

My eyes focus on the corner wall by my office, the entrance to the laundry room.

Can't get any more personal than where those two walls meet.

The markings of all the kids growth on the dining room wall.

I knew this was next on her lips.

In a super sweet southern accent she says, "You know, that will have to go right?"

NOOOO not the very detailed bi-annual inch by inch record of the little boogers.

I wipe my face again.

A big blubbery baby I tell you.

This torture goes on close to an hour.

After she leaves I open the door to the pantry. The door with Team Zybko family inside jokes written in black sharpie. I know just where to reach, exactly how high and which shelf they are located. I could find the hidden spot in the dark if I had to.

The Little Debbie cake(s) hit the spot. The feel sorry for myself, gotta put my big girl panties on spot.

We go today to pick out the just right to sell beige.

I pep talk myself.

I can do this.

I reach my arm behind my back for the almost empty box.

Like I said, I could find with my eyes closed.