Monday, December 7, 2009

On the Road Again

Good news – Highway 40 is open once again, which means now you can get from here to there without making a plan in advance.

More good news – My detour on the road to San Francisco (a new bout of breast cancer) is under control. Surgery was six weeks ago and the side effects from that surgery are responding to treatments I can live with, in contrast to treatments that were driving me crazy.

Okay, crazier.

Something else to rejoice about: I’ve revised my ideal deadline for moving. When I put the condo on the market last May, I wanted to move NOW. Once I had made the decision, I took steps to make that move happen. It didn’t, even after I spent money to neuter (um…neutralize) the place, carted out 46 boxes of books and displayed folded towels in the master bath that resembled folded towels you might see in a spa.

Over the months that followed, more than 40 people toured the condo. Some were neuter (er…neutral) about it. Some disliked it; some loved it. One woman wanted to buy the condo and all the art on my walls, as is, but had to sell her place first. (That hasn’t happened.) One man stood a long time in the dining room, imagining hardwood floors here – a lovely vision. Then he left and never called back.

“Frenzied.” That’s how one friend described my state of mind as summer turned to fall and I realized that somehow, in spite of my specific intention and superlative force of will, I still lived here. Okay, I admit to frenzied. Also frustrated and annoyed and yes, startled.

“I’ve started to think maybe I have a loser condo,” I confided to another friend. She didn’t buy that, and suggested I consider making condo affirmations. “Pretty condo, good condo, nice condo,” I crooned as I walked through the rooms. (That always works on the cat.)

Nothing changed.

People came, people went – and it’s likely that these same people were tromping through the other 32 condos for sale in Creve Coeur. No one made an offer on mine. Then along came cancer, dropping into my life like a huge red stop sign. I stopped, but I immediately started mapping out an efficient detour, much as we all do when confronted with an unexpected traffic jam on a favored route.

“Your condo did not sell because you needed to be here, with friends and doctors you know, as you went through surgery,” said one person. Or maybe it was two. No – I think I heard that at least three times. Yet as far as I know, the condo does not now and never did know that I got cancer.

In any case, that’s all in the past now. I feel terrific, I look pretty good and I’ve decided to aim for moving to San Francisco by June – a much more forgiving deadline than NOW.

That said, if you know someone who would like a new condo for Christmas (with all appropriate tax breaks), send them to: