I hate waiting.
As a naturally impatient person, waiting is like THE bane of my existence. I. Hate. Waiting.
And yet, I wait. I resist the urge to call the realtor for the 43,568th time today. He'll call me. He promised. He will call as soon as he knows something. And this afternoon, he beat me to it by calling me even when he didn't know anything.
I blame the current owners of the house, greedy little bastards that they are. We gave them what they want, and they want more.
Well, HA! Jokes on them. We don't HAVE more. So there, Mr. Fancypants Homeowner.
We'll know by 5pm. One hour and twelve minutes from now. Do you know how many seconds are in one hour and twelve minutes? A Million. At least.