Tales of living in an open house.

I arrived home from England on Sunday, thoroughly looking forward to putting my house together, determined to make it feel more like a home than last time I lived here. Which is why I was so shocked when, within hours of arriving at my house, a real estate agent came knocking on my door to inform me that he had an appointment to show my house that afternoon. Wha-wha-whaaat?! I informed him that I was living here now and that I believe the house is no longer going to be for sale. When I called my mom, however, I was proven wrong. Apparently they still plan on showing the house and selling it to the highest interested party, with or without me living in it. I hoped this wouldn't effect my life much, but I was proven wrong again yesterday morning when a couple knocked on the door at a rather...ahem...inconvenient time, causing me to run downstairs in my house coat and tell them that, no, they can't see the house today. I'm having my parents\ agent put a "by appointment only"sticker on the for sale sign.

So what it all comes down to is this: at any time this house could be sold right out from underneath me and I'll have to move again, likely this time to a condo which will be way too small for all of my stuff (especially since I recently inherited some pieces of my great grandmother's furniture upon her recent move into an old age home). I'm trying to unpak and I really don't know how to go about it. Do I go through all the trouble of unpacking my salt and pepper collection, just to maybe have to pack it all up again?

Oh, and we had a kitchen fire this morning trying to make tea for breakfast. Welcome home.

o( )__