Cause for celebration... supposedly.

So I've been waiting 11 months to sell our house in Alabama. Not at any point in all these months have we gotten even one offer. Until last week. It was exciting to hear from my agent on Monday that someone had put in an offer at last! My excitement was even shorter-lived than the lifespan of a fly because I found out how low the offer was. The buyer wanted $15K less than our asking price, PLUS $5K closing costs. Eeeeeeeeek! So we countered. Had to accept the closing costs because apparently that's what's going in this real-estate market right now. But not that low of a price. Then the week went by, with no response from the buyer. There was still some other interest, however. A lady wanted to buy it but is still in the process of getting all the mounds of paperwork in order for a VA loan. I was hoping she would get it all together and be able to put in an offer, one that was reasonable. Still, no luck. Then Sunday I got a call from the agent saying we'd gotten a counter from our lowballer. He'd come up $7K, at least. But I knew even before our agent told me the breakdown that that wouldn't be what I was hoping for after all came out in the wash. We're going to end up with very little in our pockets, at least compared to what the price was, and what we spent on it 3 years ago. This guy is getting a heck of a deal.
So honestly, rather than celebrating, Marce and I both are feeling quite glum. I can speak for myself, and in many ways him as well, probably, by saying that my reigning emotion right now is anger. Disappointment is a big one, but mostly I'm angry that I don't have real cause to celebrate right now. And I've endured a really stressful year, just holding on and holding on and managing to do so mainly by holding on to the hope that there would be a good payoff at the end. And now I've reached the end of this hideously dark tunnel to find that the light isn't a big roaring bonfire but a little match struck and already popping out. It's a huge letdown, and I'm angry.
Yep, that's right.
Those of you who still read this blog on occasion, and then that part of you who just know how I appear on the outside most of the time, will probably be a bit shocked by this admission. I'm cheery, optimistic and generally am good (at least outwardly) at finding silver linings. But frankly, I'm mad. I'm hopping mad. I'm angry at Fate for her cruel twist. yeah, there are people out there in way worse situations. And I sympathize. I do. I am sorry for being selfish, but for a few days I'm holding a pity party to at least allow my anger a bit of free rein in hopes it will dissipate after a good run around the corral.
Yes, I'm glad that this huge trial will soon be over. Knock on wood. Glad that this monkey will finally be off my back. I'm a bit relieved. But I so wanted to celebrate. And a small measure of relief does not a good party make.
My main hope now is that the sale will go smoothly these next 4 or 5 weeks and that it can truly be behind us. That somehow despite the lack of festive feelings on my part right now, that eventually the stress that has haunted us for months (and this is all right on the heels of the difficult year that was brought on us by the legal and financial issues of Charlotte's adoption) will go away for a while. That we can have at least a breather, a time to enjoy life and each other and to scale back on work taken on to pay extra bills, etc., to just relax and have some fun. 'Cause we truly deserve it.
And I do hope that will be the end of my griping.
This is the pity partier, signing off.