In our seller's case, the light fixtures she took were fancy ones she'd brought back from Germany, so it makes sense that she would want to keep them, BUT in the contract it explicitly stated she would replace them with standard fixtures (and not just leave us with wires hanging out of the ceiling) which she didn't do.

Which wound up being fine, because we were planning to replace all of them with ceiling fans anyway, but we didn't expect to just NOT HAVE LIGHTS when we moved in!

I'm guessing last day in a house has some stuff in common with last day at a job -- I'm sure there's a ton of stuff you could do to make things better for those coming behind you, but will you? Maybe yes, maybe not.

Are you sure your co-workers aren't going to surprise you with a going away something or other, Jess? In case leaving early would mess that up, I mean.

Y'all are making me glad that I am unlikely to ever be in a position to either buy or sell a house in this lifetime. Also, all those sellers are weird. I'm imagining all the Buffistas wandering through these vengefully stripped places that look like the homes of Whoville after the Grinch swept through them -- bare bulb sockets and a few stray picture-hanging wires lazily uncurling, and maybe a thumbtack and a crumb too small for a mouse. What on earth is the matter with people?

ION, a floormate just came by with Dove chocolates for everyone. The inspirational message inside one of mine said, "You are exactly where you are supposed to be." SHUT UP DOVE YOU ARE NOT HELPING.

IOON, a message went out yesterday to all the inhabitants of the 4th and 5th floors announcing the institution of a lost and found at the 4th floor reception desk, and that anyone who'd found something could bring it there and anyone who'd lost something could email this listserv. The very next email was from our ballerina heart surgeon, asking plaintively, "Has anyone seen my office? It seems to have gotten lost in the move. Kind of generic but functional. It has four walls and a door not made out of glass. If you find it, please drop it off at my cubicle."

The house in Frederick was new construction, so other than the lights, we had to put in blinds and curtain rods. That's all staying.

When I bought this house, I expected the curtains and the rods to be gone, since it wasn't spelled out, but they were here. The light fixtures are serviceable, though I've made some cosmetic changes.

The very next email was from our ballerina heart surgeon, asking plaintively, "Has anyone seen my office? It seems to have gotten lost in the move. Kind of generic but functional. It has four walls and a door not made out of glass. If you find it, please drop it off at my cubicle."

Brilliant.

You guys, I am so scared about my office move!

I knew someone who discovered on moving day that the sellers had taken all the fixtures from the bathrooms, including the toilet paper holders.

I'll admit that I left my last house a mess. I was desperate to move and hadn't had an offer for months, so I felt I had to take an offer that was contingent on my being out of the house in a month. In that time, I had to buy a house, get my ex to take the rest of his stuff and pack all my stuff, which included thousands of books. I flat ran out of time. I felt sort of bad about it, but the fact that the buyers had been massive dicks helped soothe my conscience. It was the first time I hadn't left a place much cleaner than when I moved in.

"Has anyone seen my office? It seems to have gotten lost in the move. Kind of generic but functional. It has four walls and a door not made out of glass. If you find it, please drop it off at my cubicle."

Love. I want her for a doctor.

Today's latest news is that I have to replace my 275 gallon fuel oil tank sooner rather than later. It's over 50 years old and nicely rusted at the bottom. If there's a spill or leak, it turns in to a major environmental disaster that requires calling the Dept. of Environmental Protection and clean up fees that could run into the tens of thousands. A quick google tells me that replacing the tank is going to run me about $2100. There goes my tax refund.

Maria, at least it's something sexy, right? Fuel oil tanks are hawt.

Fuel oil tanks are hawt.

Totally.

(I see what you did there, missy.)