The contract became final last week and I didn't want to jinx it by
posting prematurely. Man, it's been a tough labor, but the ink is dry
and I'm handing over the keys at the end of the month! It's
bittersweet, but mostly sweet. I've had enough time to make my peace
with moving on, and I'm excited!
Selling this apartment is not an experience I ever wish to repeat. My (very expensive) Realtor was great in the pre-sales process, and I chose him because of what seemed to be his marketing-focused mindset, but once I signed, he turned out to be (in the words of Robert) "all mouth and no trouser."
After six months and many requests, he never delivered a marketing plan. He held one 30 minute open house, and landed a pitiful three showings, which his colleague handled. He also scheduled a showing which was cancelled, and never bothered to tell me this until I'd gotten the place show ready, made myself scarce, and called him from my car two hours after the supposed showing because I hadn't heard from him and wanted to know if the coast was clear to go back home. It was getting ugly.
In the end, I paid him for "services rendered" and terminated the contract. We'd considered filing a complaint, but decided that our time was worth more than the money we'd save... word of mouth can be a real bitch ;-)
In the time between terminating my contract and signing with a new Realtor, I found my own buyer! I was able to do the sale directly, which saved me a small fortune and gave me the smug satisfaction of not paying that oxygen thief a commission for doing next to nothing :D
I let the place go for less than I'd wanted and lower than it was valued, but all things considered, buying it was still a sound financial decision. Danish landlords are notoriously shifty, and wary of renting to foreigners, especially foreigners with pets. While I took a small loss on the place, I own it free and clear, I didn't lose a large security deposit, it's much nicer than anything I could've rented, and my net loss is still less than I would've paid on a low-end rent these past four years. It served its purpose.
Sure, I could've relisted and held out for my price, but it's been nearly a
year that Robert and I have been living an hour apart and it's taken
its toll. I'd lost track of which things were at my place and which were at his. Opie doesn't travel well and it's not fair to leave him alone on a regular basis. We decided that we didn't want a long engagement, and at the same time, we didn't want to be married before my place was sold. Our lives were in a stressful and uncertain holding pattern. Sometimes, the best thing to do is to look at the average, cut your losses, and move on.
Robert's place is a 1930s functionalist property, which is totally not my style, and not really suited to my shabby chic decor, which Robert says is "more shabby than chic" so I've been selling off everything except for a few darlings. I must have great taste because I'm breaking even or turning a profit on
everything I'm selling! A woman came to see my dining table, and ended up buying my dining chairs, all of my window dressings, some mirrors and artwork, my sewing table, area rug, chandelier, and bed... she cleaned the place out and would've bought more if I was willing to sell! It did wonders for my inner decorating diva's ego, but I've been without curtains and sleeping on the floor for the past 4 weeks.
Robert has also had to sell some things, but it would appear that the
market for funky vintage things is stronger than the market for boring Danish
designer things. Just sayin', dear ;-)
Now begins the real work of merging lives and styles. The builders are starting tomorrow on our bathroom renovation, which I've heavily influenced, and we've painted the white bedroom a lovely sage green. He's making peace with that, and I'm making peace with the white Eames chairs and the dreadful modern art print that hangs above the dreadfully modern bed, and the orchids... the dozens of orchids!
These past seven months have been so full of ups, downs, and uncertainty. I'm looking forward to the finish line two weeks from now when I'm sitting on a balcony in the summer sun knowing that I'm finally home. Just a bit more to go...
Labels: denmark, moving, our love story