I don't think we're going to get it, honestly. It's so over-priced for the area that our slightly-more-than-reasonable bid is probably not going to convince the homeowners that they really should have priced it closer to what we're offering. And there's another bid on the table, for some unspecified amount. Maybe less, probably more. We should find out in a couple of hours, hopefully. Apparently trying to deal with such things on a Sunday afternoon is a recipe for endless waiting. We could, of course, bid more -- we could afford to pay their asking price. But that would mean almost certainly losing money long-term, and I love the new place, but I don't love it to the tune of actually losing $40K! So I don't think there's much flex in our offer, if any.
And now I really have to write. I have seven chapters to revise by Friday. I don't even know if that's possible; it depends on what kind of shape they're in, and how little I goof off between now and then. I pulled some seriously long writing days when I was drafting The Classics Professor on that crazy one-month deadline. Let's see if I can do it again.