I had a seller call me at 11 PM the night before closing in absolute hysterics because she suddenly decided she couldn't part with the house. Not because of the memories or the neighborhood or anything sentimental. Because she realized she'd never measured whether her sectional would fit in the new place and now she was convinced it wouldn't and the whole move was a mistake. I spent forty-five minutes on the phone talking her off the ledge while she sobbed about a couch. A couch she'd complained about being uncomfortable for the entire three months I'd known her. I finally asked if she'd actually measured the new living room. She had not. I asked if she'd measured the couch. Also no. I drove to her house at 7 AM with a tape measure, measured both the couch and a photo of the new floor plan she had on her fridge, and showed her she'd have room to spare. She looked at me, completely calm now, and said "Oh good, I was worried for nothing." We closed at noon. She tipped me a candle.