You’ve Lost the Bidding War On Your Dream Home

If you are trying to buy a house right now, you’re in the middle of a real-life Hunger Games. You finally find that perfect little house that you can’t live without, and there will be 13 other people who feel the same way.

That means you’ll be sucked into the worst possible outcome in any house-hunting scenario—a bidding war. Those other house hunters, like you, will do whatever is required and use all the weapons at their disposal to land the place. And when you lose, which you most likely will, you will watch your dreams—of backyard cookouts, of being able to get out of bed on both sides, of room to turn around in the bathroom without bumping your butt on the sink, of a kitchen in which your pots and pans don’t all have to live in the oven—evaporate. You will be gutted. You will grieve mightily, just like when [your childhood pet’s name here] got hit by a car.

The good news is that you will get over it, eventually. But first, you’ll have to go through the five stages of grief that accompany the loss of any bidding war. The stages start right after you stop swearing. Here’s what each stage looks like, plus some suggested coping mechanisms to get through them:

Stage One: Denial

You didn’t really want that stupid house. It’s a stupid house. Forget that house.

You should: Keep saying this to yourself until this stage wears off. It’s the best you’re going to feel for awhile.

Stage Two: Anger

That house wasn’t stupid! It was awesome and you lost it. Why do you keep on LOSING?? Why can’t you ever WIN anything? It’s just like the high school state basketball championship that you LOST. And all those times you lost the lottery. Oh great! Now there’s a hole in the wall above the TV from you throwing your laptop in loser rage. Loo. Zer.

You should: Stop with the throwing. You’re going to be in your house awhile. But don’t repair the hole. That’s just conceding that you are never moving out. Go buy a painting to cover it up. It will take your mind off all the losing.

Stage Three: Bargaining

You are brilliant! Why didn’t you think of this before? You tell your broker to offer 5% above the winning offer, no matter what it was. Your broker tells you it was all cash, 30% over asking, included a new Range Rover, the buyers are closing on the property in eight hours, and their moving truck is already idling outside the house. “Face it,” your broker says. “You lost.” “NO!” you think really loudly to yourself. “You lost, broker person. YOU lost.”

You should: Drink and cry. But whatever you do, don’t watch HGTV. All those clueless, insanely picky, delusional, yet somehow winning house hunters will make you throw things at the TV, which you can’t replace because you need your savings for a downpayment. Theoretically.

Stage Four: Depression

You will never find a house. Just quit looking. It’s pointless. Why even bother? You’re going to be stuck in this dumb, ugly house for the rest of your life, looking at that terrible painting you just bought to put over the hole. You hate that painting. What is that even a painting of? An angry bee stinging a… a walrus of some sort? Is it even hung the right way up? It looks like a five-year-old drew it. It’s a stupid painting.

You should: Stop drinking and go to bed. Leave the picture alone. It’s hung properly. You maybe should have paid for a nicer one, or bought some fine art photography of the Eiffel Tower or a foggy Brooklyn Bridge. Deal with that tomorrow. If you have dreams about blowing up that house that someone else won, that’s a normal part of the grieving process.

Stage Five: Acceptance

Wait. That’s not a bee and walrus. It’s a flower in a garden. Now that the morning sunlight is hitting it, it’s not that bad of a painting. The colours go with the comfy chair. Like you planned it that way. You sort of like it now. You’re gonna sit in that comfy chair and admire your new painting, have a cup of coffee and take a quick scroll through the listings sites to see if anything came on the market overnight. You’ll use your phone, since your laptop is in pieces.

You should: Love the one you’re with. Maybe go ahead and fill in that hole. Keep the faith. Your house is out there. It might take you a year to find it. You might need to look at 100 houses or more. Maybe you’ll have to wait until this insane market crush has calmed down a bit. But you’ll find it. In the meantime, remember to be thankful that you’ve got a roof over your head, be that as it may.

A Mid-Century Modern home in Carmel, California, hit the market on Friday for just the third time in 70 years with a listing price of $4.25 million.

Located in the community of Carmel Highlands, the house is just steps from the coastline and comes with private beach access, according to the listing with Tim Allen of Coldwell Banker Realty in Northern California. Allen was not immediately available for comment.

The property last changed hands in 2010 when Hollywood screenwriter Richard Outten bought it for $990,000, public records show. Outten penned the screenplays for the 1992 movie “Pet Sematary Two” and the 1987 film “Lionheart,” and created the story for the 2012 “Journey to the Center of the Earth” sequel, “Journey 2: The Mysterious Island.” He was not immediately available for comment.

Built in 1953, the home’s mid-century charm has been preserved over the years while still being updated for modern living. Interior details include wood paneling, exposed-brick walls and beamed ceilings.

The single-level house has 1,785 square feet, which includes three bedrooms and two full bathrooms. Though not directly on the water, large windows flanking the adobe-brick, wood-burning fireplace look out at the ocean.

Sliding glass doors create a seamless flow between indoor and outdoor living. Outside, there’s a large patio surrounded by lush landscaping, and there are also meandering paths through sustainable succulent gardens, according to the listing.

In addition to its close proximity to the beach, the home is a 10-minute walk from downtown Carmel-by-the-Sea.

As of July, the median list price in Carmel is $3.1 million, up 8% from last year, even as active listings have increased 50% year over year, according to data from Realtor.com.