1962 Mid-Century Modern property in
And then the whirlwind began. I placed my Brooklyn Heights apartment on the market in mid-September—fully renovated after 13 years—and garnered my first offer before my first official Open House.
Ultimately, four offers were considered, and it was the second that captivated me: A couple already based in the neighborhood, due with their first child, along with a letter explaining how they loved the nabe and my apartment. Don't think for a second that the emotional plea doesn't matter. Mind you, they also had the best offer and solid financials. I'm no dummy, you know?
It's been a loooooong road from there to here, with an aggressive bidding back and forth on the property in Norfolk (I did just fine) and more bureaucratic hoopla in the months since than I ever imagined possible. Believe me, New York's novel "coop" mandate has more by-the-book rules than any Catholic school.
Now, at last, I am a week from my (long) awaited transition. I'm still working through so many details... finances from here to there, turning off utilities here, turning on utilities there, making sure I have Internet there, bank hoo-ha, checks, title mess, fees, attorneys, scheduling... Honestly, I watch these house flipping shows on HGTV and I wonder... How the hell? One transition over the past 20 years is just about a full-time occupation.
Thursday night I am offering all of my beloved New York City connections over the past 18 years to come together for one last toast. Chuck's NYC YA! is taking place tomorrow... and I have a feeling I'm going to be crying a bit. Cause that's what I do. Leaving the life I have loved for almost 20 years is really hard. But on the other side... so many new possibilities. Taking chances and starting anew is what the adventure of LIFE is supposed to be. I can't wait. *