Backtracking and stepping forward

How do I say this?
Here I am, blathering on about going to Paris and all and ... guess what? I haven't even been accepted yet at the cooking school.
Embarrassing.
It's just that it all seems so perfect that it's hard to imagine it not happening.
But time for a reality check, or two.
Reality Check One. I'll have to rent my house to make this happen. Had prospective Property Manager over the other day to see what the house would rent for. Ten years ago, when my brother and I decided to rent our parents' house -- which is now my house -- a property manager told us to put it on the market for X dollars. So, given the rate of inflation, it should go for 1.5 to 2x dollars now, right?
Yes, but, there's this little problem of a recession/depression/housing crisis/belt tightening/sheer stupid panic going on and guess what? Property Manager says we can put it on the market for X, but it may go for less. Bummer, as my Baby Boomer colleagues who remember their slang would say. Not far out at all.
Reality Check Two. I'm taking my cat to Paris, which, last time I tried it, was at least a 12-hour trip from Seattle. Airlines don't generally allow animals in cabins on flights longer than six hours. That's smart. I mean, how long can Fido or Fluffy "hold it"? And ever try getting a cat to use an airline toilet?
So that means no non-stop flight to Paris for me, or rather, for me and kitty. We'll have to go Seattle-New York, New York-Paris, with a hotel with room for a portable litter box in between. Complicated. Expensive. Time-consuming. But she's coming to Paris with me. After all, she's already got a French name (Samantha Jacqueline) and understands French.
Doubt it?
Then watch her furry little bottom hit the floor when I tell her "Asseyez-toi!"
Oh, didn't I mention that? She's a trained cat, in more ways than one. But she's no pushover -- she's got attitude.
She'll do just fine in France.