There’s a special kind of anxiety that comes from seeing a pending house. It’s like watching your ex post a vacation photo with someone new. You don’t want that house, but you suddenly want to know every detail. How much did they offer? Did they waive the inspection? Did they cry during the walkthrough?
I once checked a pending listing every single day for a month. I’d refresh the page hoping for a miraculous “back on market” update. It was the digital equivalent of checking the fridge for the same leftover pizza that you already finished two days ago. Spoiler: it never came back.
