Wheels!

I have a new-to-me car. It is a 2011 Toyota Venza. I had never heard of such a car until Marty told me I wanted one (I didn't, but the Subaru I test drove was awful and this one is kinda peppy). Anyway, I now have wheels. We name all of our cars--because we are like that. This one is Sage.

This isn't the actual car, but it looks pretty much the same.

To Do

• Send Broker Entity Information into the Department of Real Estate ✔
• Have Department of Real Estate approve broker entity name. ✔
• Contact Department of Real Estate and verify they meant to allow me the name I selected. ✔
• Stop asking stupid questions to the Department before they change their minds ✔
• Obtain Business Address (which isn't my home address) ✔
• Corporation Commission Registration of LLC ✔
• Wait the four or more "expedited" weeks until the Corporation Commission says yes or no. 
• Secretary of State Registration ✔
• Finish my mandatory Broker Management Classes 
• Get IRS EIN Number
• Give small rain forest-sized ream of paper with everything necessary to the Department of Real Estate for their blessing 
• Wait for Department of Real Estate to grant my request
• Open a bank account
• Hang Fair Housing poster (already printed) in my office
• Figure out how to use Quickbooks (after I pick up a copy)
• Pick up a copy of Quckbooks
• Obtain Logo
• Order business cards
• Order tasteful, yet relatively small and still visible sign for my house (mandatory from the Department)
• Order real estate signs for my listings
• Order car magnets for still hypothetical car
• Verify I really do own the URL ✔ 
• Get a Web site
• Tell Jane
• Tell El Jefe
• Tell clients
• Clean my office and put old files into storage 
• Find a new desk (mine is rickety and dying)
• Breathe

Abby

I hear they are yummy. 

My Bonus Mom taught me the importance of taking care of the lost souls. She saved me. I was 19 and on a very dangerous and destructive path with no return. Had she not stopped me... well, she did. She took me in, she loved me like I was her own. She fed me, clothed me, held my hand when I needed it and released me when it was time to go.

It burns me that the last thing I ever said to her was that I loved her and would support any decision she wanted to make. I didn't realize that meant she would make the decision to leave this world. I want to take it back, unsay those words. Because what I really meant was I love her and would support most any decision she wanted to make as long as it gave all of us mere mortals more time with her. As much as I would give anything for another five minutes of her time, I would seriously give much more so Mr. Reader Number Two could have 10 more minutes with her instead.

Oh, I made Mr. Reader Number Two cry last week. I hate that I do that. I hate it more, because we both start in and usually Buckaroo (for some reason) is always nearby and has to have that weird uncomfortableness that comes when one is 15 and is helplessly stuck around two bawling adults. But I digress...

One of the early life lessons Bonus Mom instilled in me is to pay forward what kindness I can. I swear I have made a mental list for years of all the nice things people have done for me that I have wanted to pay back or forward. I don't think I will leave this life giving as much as I have received. No matter how much I try.

Tonight, I went out with Abby. Abby is one of my bonus kids. She is 18, out on her own. She has bright blue hair and one more semester of high school. She currently works two jobs, has a very long term boyfriend and has a wisdom and maturity I wished I had possessed at a young age. I have known Abby since she was seven. She was part of the home school community I belonged to. I recognized the at-risk behaviors in her family and did what I could to look after her. I got Polly's Girl Scout leader involved and the two of us keep tabs on her ever since. Abby and Polly get a long ok, but they are mere acquaintances with neither having any real burning desire to cultivate a friendship.

Tonight I brought Abby her Christmas present when I took her out for dinner. Then we went to Trader Joe's, where I bought her a box of JoJo cookies. Then we went to one of her jobs where she picked up her paycheck. We laughed and joked. She told me repeatedly I spoiled her. Then she told her co-worker I was her bonus mom. It made me smile and cry inside. That is another kindness I need to figure out how to pay back and forward.

Abby doesn't know about my Bonus Mom.

I hope I can pay forward enough of Bonus Mom's love and kindness to others. And I hope I can set enough of an example to Abby of the way Bonus Mom lived and how she had an impact on those around her. Hopefully I can make a difference for others.

Merry Christmas

A wonderful Christmas to all'y'all. For your listening enjoyment, this is my new favorite band. I love a capella! If O Holy Night isn't your holiday jam, here is Home Free's cover of Colder Weather. 

Bad MLS Photos

I know you are scratching your head, wondering how much effort I put into this particular topic. I just know! Truly, not much. I open up MLS on occasion for other, more pressing reasons, and voila! These photos jump out at me.


El Jefe taught me when I first started in the business, if your photo doesn't convey the right message don't post it. Obviously, this agent wasn't mentored by El Jefe.

Honest to goodness. I thought that was carpet on the floor. I was thinking, why would someone put a mop on a rug? But truly, more to the point, WHY add this photo at all?



Ok, lovely little home. I mean, it could use a bit of curb appeal, but that's really not my issue. The picture isn't the best, but whatever, it shows green grass and a toilet on the driveway.



Here is the inside. Was this agent (or photographer, because it looks like there was a filter used) so darn lazy he/she couldn't put the chairs on the floor and scoot over the trash bag?



This is the same house as the above two pictures. See. A nice photo. Makes me wonder even more why the agent opted to go with the first two pictures.



Here is a nice starter home in West Phoenix. If you had never been in this home before, would you have guessed there was a bathroom sink? Perhaps the agent should have left this to the imagination? At least it is clean.




This one is in Sun City. What is the potential buyer supposed to take from this picture? There is room on the patio for a table perhaps? But not really, because you can see two different kinds of outdoor floor: tile and kool deck (I think). So maybe the agent is telling potential buyers this is a teeny-tiny patio.



Incidentally, this is the same house. I'm showing you this because the the agent had a lot to work with here. So why the above photo?



A completely different home. But I can't tell you what this is a picture of. It is on the MLS though.



This next photo leaves nothing to the imagination. A buyer knows exactly what they are looking at.



By the way, do you see the creepy sillouette in the window? Can you now un-see it?


The pictures on the interior also have text. Just in case you didn't know what a stove an electric range looked like. Actually, I like the concept, not the execution. And is it just me or is anyone else wondering why the microwave oven door handle is gold?



All this picture tells me is that there is purple carpet and a lot of doors.



This next house is adorable, charming and cute. It's been a long day, I am out of adjectives. The home is lovely. There is nothing too weird except this. Do you see it?



Let me help you out.

And finally, this is a $343,000 home in Mesa. I am telling you this because bad MLS pictures happen in all price ranges. I am guessing the pool really wasn't green. But the filter makes it look like it. But more to the point, some agent 1) paid for this picture and 2) posted it on MLS.

Jane

Jane and I have been friends since we were six. She is 9 days older than me, which means she turns fifty before I do (Ha!). Her mother was my girl scout leader starting in first grade. We both moved away our freshman years and reunited at the high school we should have both started at when we were in our Junior year (she went to two high schools, I went to three). She married young and became a career military wife. She had two children and moved twenty times in eighteen years. She was a teacher, then an office manager for a tax accounting office and now a real estate agent.

Last year, her mother died after a horrific battle with cancer. When my bonus mother died in July, Jane was there, as she had gone through what I was going through eleven months earlier. I will always be grateful for her support. Her kindness and generosity was the crutch I needed in some pretty dark times.

Before she got her license, to my knowledge, Jane's only experience in sales came in the form of hocking girl scout cookies 30+ years earlier. Instead, her working life was filled with the bureaucracy that comes with the public school system and the IRS. Additionally, being an officer's wife, meant she and her children also had other social conventions and rules they followed.

Sales in general, is an outside-the-box kind of discipline. Real estate, though it has a structure all of its own, does to a large degree require a bit of imagination and innovation at times. When Jane got her license, I wondered if she would be able to truly embrace what it took to do sales. And perhaps if she had gone to work for one of the big names, (such as Weller Killiams, Max/Re, 19th Century) she would have had the ample training new agents need. Instead, she met El Jefe, was instantly charmed by him--because that's what El Jefe does--and because I was already working for him, chose to hang her license there. The true problem is El Jefe doesn't really provide training. So, it has been left to me to teach Jane what I know.

Now, I certainly don't mind mentoring Jane. We have a lot of fun adventures. But only one of us is selling. And because one really isn't a prophet in their own family, I am relatively certain I am not sufficiently motivating her. Jane doesn't feel a level of accountability towards me as a mentor she really needs if she wishes to be successful. This has been a frustration for me--and I would guess her too--for the past few months. Essentially, I am not doing her any favors. I know this and I wonder if she does. In fact, it would be a tremendous relief if she did feel this way and was just being too kind to say anything.

In addition to all of the above, I am moving on. If Jane hadn't come aboard or if I hadn't had a bankruptcy this past year, I would have moved sooner. But the above happened. Jane joined the El Jefe team because I was there (and El Jefe is a smooth talker). When I leave, she will be left out to fend for herself. This upsets me greatly.

I haven't told her I am opening up my brokerage. First, she has been laid up this month, so I haven't seen her (I still have no car) and second, I have to tell her what I am dreading: I am not inviting Jane to the new brokerage. Ronnie was welcome to come--with open arms. But, the cost of my malpractice insurance to bring on ONE new agent is more than double of what it was going to cost for Ronnie and me. It isn't just the money (I could insist Jane pay the difference), I am not up for the level of liability that comes with Jane being so green.

Perhaps with me (and Ronnie--who isn't joining me) gone, El Jefe and Senora will step up and do what they should have done all along. But I doubt it. I am happy even after I leave to continue to work with her, but truly, Jane needs more than I can give. When I met with Broker 1 a couple of weeks ago, I mentioned Jane might come with me and HE needed to be the one to mentor her and explained precisely why it would be him. He was very much in favor of that. I originally wanted to talk with Mrs. Hufflepuff because I know they have a new agent training program so there would be space for Jane if she chose to come. I actually think Jane would be a good fit with Mrs. Hufflepuff.

I am dreading the inevitable heart-to-heart Jane and I are going to have. I would like to tell her soon, but I am not exactly sure what to say. "Hey, I am dumping you with El Jefe" or "I am going out on my own and you can't come". Of course there are fancier and flowerier version of that, but it will be the same message. A mutual friend pointed out that yea, it might be weird for a while, but Jane and I are reasonable people. Our friendship is built on more than just real estate. What I would prefer is if our friendship was built on right now is psychic vibes and potential forgiveness so that I don't have to do much explaining.

I'm Committed

I had an experience yesterday. About an hour after I got the Department of Real Estate's blessing, the broker I interviewed with e-mailed me. He said a lot of very sweet things, which boiled down to, "You would make a great addition to my brokerage. What's stopping you?" I didn't write him back right away. Instead, I dithered. Maybe going off on my own would be too hard? Though, I am not sure what "too hard" would look like. I have done hard things before. I am not afraid of hard. I am afraid of change, wrong and disappointing others. Those are my hot buttons.

At any rate, I didn't write him back to tell him no. I'm not coming. And then I realized, until I did so, I wasn't fully committed to my new adventure. While I sat in the ether--between, "Yes, I am opening a brokerage" and "Nope, I am in the safe space where I am," nothing would change. My decision to go forward was on hold while I refused to commit.

Once I had this revelation, I took action. I wrote, and then rewrote my very brief e-mail to Broker 1, thanking him for everything, including the inspiration and guidance he offered me when we met a few weeks ago. And then I told him I am going to hang my license with my brokerage. As soon as I pushed send, I swear my world changed. I was committed. Incidentally, he wrote me back, wishing me well and said he hoped we had a chance to work together some time.

There is a wonderful quote my friend Reader Number Three once gave me. It danced in my head for a few hours, and now I am sharing it with you. I have found it attributed through the years to several folks. But Goeth is getting the credit today.

“Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative and creation, there is one elementary truth the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too.

All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favour all manner of unforeseen incidents, meetings and material assistance which no man could have dreamed would have come his way.

 Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it. Begin it now.”
 

--Johann Wolfgang von Goeth

It's Happening

I got notice today from the Arizona Department of Real Estate. My first name choice was approved! I now have 90 days to:

• Create an LLC with the Arizona Corporation Commission
• Get an EIN Number with the IRS
• Take additional classes the department requires of me
• Clean my office (not too messy, but want to get the old documents out of here)
• Break the news to Jane (more on that later)
• Have a (hopefully) positive chat with El Jefe
• Sell my six-bedroom listing so that El Jefe and I don't have a tussle over who gets to keep the listing (technically, as the broker, he "owns" the listing). Besides, that will give me the seed money I need for the rest of this list.
• Get a PO Box (don't need potential clients finding my house)
• Get a sign made for the front door (required by the department)
• Get cards, logos, listing signs and web site (I own the URL!) and whatever other marketing stuff I need. 
• Open a business bank account somewhere with seed money from the potential sale of the six bedroom I have listed.
• Get a copy of quick books 
• Pay for my errors and omissions insurance policy

This is what I can think of, off the top of my head. I am sure there will be more tasks. 

LOOKING FOR A REAL ESTATE AGENT FOR THE ARIZONA GOLF RESORT

Yes, He Included This Picture

Below is an e-mail I got today, with nothing changed but this guy's name. It is from some fellow who wants me to advertise on his ball washers at the golf course he works for. 

There is so much wrong with this e-mail. But hey! The lucky individual who gets this opportunity will have "crowds of captive audiences" reading his/her ad. Incidentally, I doubt there are 60,000 golfers who play at this particular course. I question the rest of his statistics too, but who knows?

Hello, 

We are going to feature a local real estate agent on the front of our NEW BALL WASHERS for two full years at the Arizona Golf Resort! 

Attached to this email is an example of what the new ball washers will look like at the Arizona Golf Resort. Their address is 425 S Power Rd, Mesa, AZ 85206.

The Arizona Golf Resort gets over 60,000 rounds of golf played every year. You would have a large, full color display at the tee-off area where crowds of captive audiences wait to play the hole. Most of the 60,000 golfers will engage the device and ultimately come face-to-face with your promotion for lengthy periods of time. These are professionally crafted displays which are next to par, yardage, handicap information, and other crucial information needed to play the hole correctly. YOUR MESSAGE IS FORCEFULLY DELIVERED TO TENS OF THOUSANDS OF WEALTHY INDIVIDUALS.

The cost includes all graphic art work you may need designed or adjusted. Normally, the cost is $395 for one full year, however we are currently offering a seldom seen promotional opportunity. For a limited time, the one time fee is $395 FOR TWO FULL YEARS! 

There are two things which make this different from all the other marketing you may be doing right now: 

• 1. Who your audience is: The average annual income of the golfers at this course is $100,951. Approximately 91% are homeowners and 38% have interest in purchasing a luxury property. This is an upscale, high volume course which attracts a wealthy clientele. 

• 2. The way your ad is delivered to the audience: it is a large display in front of captive audiences at tee off areas where golfers constantly approach and engage face-to-face for considerable periods of time.

Our company has an 87% renewal rate and that is because our customers find this form of marketing profitable.

Of course your existing customers that golf out there will feel more confident seeing your brand in the local market, and then there are great word of mouth referrals from this as well: "Hey I used them before, they took care of me when...!". This golfer is saying this to his best 3 buddies hes golfing with, which is the best kind of referral you can receive.

Please reach out to me if you are interested so we can get your reservation started which only takes about 90 seconds. We assign you a graphic designer to help you put together the artwork. They ask for simple photos, logos, information, and a brief description of how you would like it to look. You have 2-3 weeks to submit that artwork to my art department, and you have the final approval on the art before it goes out. Your term does not start until your promotion is actually at the course.

Let me know what you think!

--The Guy Who Wrote This (name changed to protect the clueless). 

The Forensic Accountant

As a celebration to the beginning of Marty Sunshine's two week vacation, we went and met with a new accountant today. I proudly gave him my last few tax returns and explained the complexities we had with our accidental business. We casually mentioned the reason we were looking for a new accountant was because our dear friend Diamond Jim was retiring.

The accountant looked through last year's tax returns, taking notes. He rubbed his eyes a few times and ran his hand through his hair, while he gritted his teeth. I optimistically pointed out that our taxes won't be nearly as complicated going forward. So, it looks like it can only go up from here, right??

Unfortunately, we aren't going forward. We are going backwards. Mr. CPA will be doing some forensic accounting. Forensic accounting is kind of a thing! Who knew?

There are some odd gaps in our tax return from last year. I am not surprised by this, as I lived the hell that was tax season 2017 with Diamond Jim. But still, it was painful to hear. Right now I need to provide Mr. New CPA with some documents that I am pretty sure don't exist, because Diamond Jim's files this last year are a bit sketchy. We also need to consider making a quarterly payment January 15. But I wasn't surprised to hear that either. Truly the biggest surprise was that Mr. New CPA agreed to take us on as clients.

No Rest

I am sleep deprived. Right now I am on about 90 minutes of sleep and have several more hours before I can call it a day. In the mean-time, I am making small, baby-step decisions today.

1. I have agreed to compromise and will be willing to look at used Toyota Avalons or Venzas some time next week when Marty finds one. I probably won't be getting a Subaru--because Buckaroo is already 5'8" at the age of 15, and sticking him in the backseat would be like cramming a baby giraffe into a mailbox. However, Buckaroo is no fool. He will be driving next year and likes the idea of driving a Forester. So, even as I write this, he is lobbying.

I won't be getting a truck. Again. Marty Sunshine owes me a truck.

2. I just submitted a Entity Name Reservation Request to the Arizona Department of Real Estate with my top two name options. Both are available with the AZ Secretary of State. My first choice for a business name is for the domain name I already own. My other name choice has a domain name which is available but at a horrible price. It includes my last name--which I think is required. The URL folks aren't stupid. They charge more for a common last name. I am told I should hear back in the next two weeks.

Not to Jinx it or Anything

There is a very good chance, that maybe, possibly, perhaps I will be getting a car in the next few weeks.

Maybe Its Not Me

I asked Ronnie for a reality check. She agrees. Mrs. Hufflepuff is a bit too clingy for this stage of our business relationship.

Ronnie also said Mrs. H. was probably checking out what I say on FB because I was refusing to take her personality test. Too bad I haven't posted anything in a long while. If she really wants to know what I think, she might want to try a different social medium. But perhaps she already has.

It's Probably Me

I am having a slight panic attack, which I recognize as completely irrational. Mrs. Hufflepuff, right after I asked her if we could reschedule our meeting for January, (because I needed some time to really discern what I was going to do next), invited me to her office's holiday party. Now I realize this was a nice, friendly, gesture. I understand there is no malice, unkindness or ulterior mean-girl motive, but dang! Is it me or is this a bit much? I would prefer to think it was a bit much, but it is probably me.

The Guides for How to Survive the South

Though we could analyze my social anxiety issues, I will let you do that on your own time. What it told me was I am not ready to consider this company. I don't want family togetherness with people I don't know. The Halloween pictures on FB with her fellow agents (she's the boss!), was a bit unnerving. What if I don't celebrate Halloween (I guarantee I don't celebrate it her way) and what if I don't want to hang out with my fellow agents for a little kids' holiday? What if I just want to be friendly and pleasant and see these folks in the office? What's wrong with that level of relationships?

I understand Christmas and December parties are the norm. It was a sweet invite, but it seems like it is a bit too much. First a personality test and an employment agreement before I even meet with her. Then a FB invite--I don't want to be friends with her, I might want to work with her. If I like her can we THEN talk about the FB request? What's wrong with doing things in that order?

Am I just too much of a stick in the mud? Is my time in the South affecting my business decisions in the Southwest? I KNOW what to make of this situation in the South (holiday invite--if I had showed up at the interview and not postponed it--ok. The rest is an obvious blessherheart NO!). In some ways it is easier in the South. The rules are black and white of what to do and not to do. If one is unsure, look up an etiquette guide from 1945 and you will know.

The fact remains, if I am so flustered about meeting her sales agents in a social setting, I am not a good fit at this time for this place. I was willing to meet the other broker's agents in a social setting, but decided not to because the religion thing will never go away. But not Mrs. Hufflepuff. As pleasant as she is, I am thinking I just won't fit in with that level of togetherness.

The Creepy Hufflepuff

The Organized Hufflepuff I was to interview with today sent me an e-mail over the weekend, asking to change our meeting time and date. Though it isn't a problem to reschedule, I still hadn't responded to her. That alone is telling me how excited I am to meet with her.

And just to reinforce my hesitancy, after I got on Facebook Sunday night, I found a friend request from her. Marty Sunshine swears this is "normal" and she is being "friendly." Perhaps. But I asked him if he were interviewing with a company and the owner of the company and person interviewing him sent a Facebook request to his (non-existent) account, wouldn't he find it strange? "That isn't how real estate works. You build relationships," he countered. Maybe. But I am still slightly creeped out.

It did give me a chance to peek at her profile. She doesn't seem to belong to any religion that makes me wonder if I would be a second-class citizen in her office. She is big on peppering her FB page with her real estate listings and pictures of her completely decked out in Halloween costumes. Neither of which appeal to me. Yes, I know I am supposed to bug everyone I know with my real estate conquests. But for some reason, I just don't. And to me, Halloween is a kiddie holiday that centers around chocolate.

The other item to note as I was looking at her profile is there is probably no opportunities for me to have a leadership role in her organization. She has that job and it is obvious from what I can see through our personal interactions, she takes it seriously. So, this one looks to be a dead-end.

Bad MLS Pictures

May I just throw this out here... Why? Why? I ask, is it so difficult for agents to take pictures of homes to show them in the best light? Sellers are actually paying agents to take pictures like these. And real estate agents wonder why the general public thinks the real estate profession is full of snake oil salespeople.

What does this photo really tell a potential buyer? The place has electricity? There is no landscaping? And is that an open sewer clean-out?



I consider it a pet peeve when an agent is too lazy to actually get out of the car to take the picture. I mean, shouldn't there have been some effort made on the agent's part to make this home look like it wasn't a shanty in potential gang territory?



How about this one? The least the agent could have done was hide the fact there isn't a roof.



Here's one for you? Is this room a bedroom or a kitchen?




Same house. Is this the kitchen or the shed?



Another random home (I swear, I don't put that much effort into finding these pictures) where potential buyers can scour the internet looking at stuff like this below. What is the message the buyer is left with? There is a shower? Running water? Or an avocado green-retro vibe in this home? Or perhaps the buyer is being forewarned the seller can't be bothered to caulk the shower head.



This begs the question: Was the agent too lazy to crop the photo or was the seller too lazy to get off the couch so the agent could take the picture?





This next one is from a $237,000 home in the west valley. At least I hope there is a home that comes with this picture.




Lovely view, don't ya think? Don't you want to live near high voltage lines? If you do, hit me up and I will get you a showing.



I don't think the car comes with the property, but who knows?



The home is listed for $299,000 and THIS is what the seller is paying the agent for??



Here's a tip: just because you can take the picture, doesn't mean you have to publish the picture in the multiple listing service. Garages, especially when a home is for sale, tend to be messy and cluttered. But that doesn't mean the agent has to let every looky-loo on the Internet know what is being stored in their client's garage. Especially when their client's address is also published on the Internet.



Just when I think I have exhausted all possible pictures for the day I run into more. This is from an $800,000 listing. Yes, that's right folks, eight-tenths of a million dollars. This is one of the seven pictures showing this property (there is a house). By the way, there are no interior photos and this is not only the first picture that comes up on the listing, it is probably the most attractive.



And finally, this last photo comes from a $499,000 listing in Mesa. It is one of only six pictures. That's right, the agent felt that the first five pictures sold the home sufficiently enough that it was ok to add this one.

What is the "Organized" Equivalent to a Hogwart's House?

I have an interview on Monday with a brokerage that caught my eye. I don't know what religion the owners happen to be. And, I prefer that (broker number 1 was very clear on that up front, which started the storm of paragraphs in the post prior). I met the broker I am meeting with on Monday at an open house. We chatted for quite a while and I was actually intrigued by their brokerage and mentor programs. I wasn't looking to move then, but I found it interesting that a small agency would invest so greatly in their agents. These interviews aren't only for me, there is still Jane to consider (more on her later).

Anyway, when I started down this path to figuring out my next step, I called this woman. She remembered me and we set up a time to meet. She asked for my e-mail address and told me she was going to send me some info about her company. Our entire phone exchange took less than two minutes.

Here's the part where she lost me. She sent me her office's policy manual and an employment agreement. I haven't even interviewed with her. And by the way, this is my interview to see if I want to go there, not her interview to see if she wants me. As a broker, she should know that. She also told me I would need to take a personality test (required for all agents) and sent me the link to start it. She said she wants all of her agents to "get along" and make sure we were all on the same page. As I don't even know if I want to hang my license there, I saw no reason to take the test at this time. It is like going from setting up a first date to running down to city hall to get the marriage license. A bit soon and a bit much.

The personality tests was one of those types that breaks down your main traits into four basic categories. I have taken the test before. I doubt my personality changed much since I took it. I tested highest on being "decisive" and "influential" (leadership and sales, go figure?). I tested lowest on organization (ask my bookkeeper) and whatever the hufflepuff-type of trait on that test was--something warm and fuzzy. So, I am thinking this may not be a fantastic fit because she strikes me as an organized hufflepuff. 

Reservations

My search to figure out my next step has been filled with landmines this week, which are distracting me from sitting down and thinking. And analyzing. And discerning. What ever change I make, I would prefer it to be my last one. I am not in a hurry and would rather make this decision be the right one.

Yes, I interviewed with one broker. It went well. He is promising me opportunities I will not get if I go out on my own. I liked him. I think I could learn and grown under the right circumstances with his company. But I am not sure the "right circumstances" will truly ever manifest. The nagging part of my gut doesn't fully believe him. And I happen to believe my gut when it is telling me something.

I live in a city where a certain religion dominates. This same religion happens to dominate in Salt Lake City too. The broker I met with is part of this faith. In this religion's meetings they have been known to talk about "the abomination that is the Catholic church." I know this because I have heard it. When I was in my teens I had a friend who took me to her church, the same church, with her every week. I also know this because I have done research and talked to others who have left this religion.

I have lived in Mesa for 23 years, I have seen this repeatedly, first hand at restaurants, social events and even on my own street. I have even seen it in real estate transactions where a seller refuses to sell because the buyer isn't taking their marching orders from Salt Lake City's temple--even after the buyer and seller shook on the deal.

Those in this faith are very nice folks. But they tend to stick together, and those who don't play like they do, are outcasts and always will be. It is part of their tenants to take care of their own first. It isn't that they are purposely (hopefully) snubbing. Perhaps they aren't aware they say things IN FRONT OF ME AND MY DAUGHTER like, "Don't play with that little girl Polly, you need to find someone to play with from our church." These aren't isolated incidents. Nor are they just my anecdotal experiences. I am 100 percent certain I can walk down the street and poll ten random non-Salt Lakers, who will share similar stories.

When Diamond Jim hung his license with folks from an accounting firm of this faith, I watched as he was treated as a pariah (I encouraged him to leave and he told me afterwards he should have). I watched as his clients were treated like outcasts and I was told by the head of this firm, when he found out that I was Diamond Jim's client, that I was to wait outside--in the summer heat--because he and the receptionist were talking--in the lobby--about some church social event their families were involved in. Incidentally, my reply was, with a sweet smile on my face, "Bless your heart. No thank you."

My children were home-schooled partially because this goes on at the local schools without hesitation. I have witnessed it--even without my children being in the schools. I have told this goes on by those in that faith and those who are not in that faith. It is discrimination, and very difficult to prove if the principals and school board (who are also of the same religion) and the last three superintendent of public instructions (also practice the same religion) even cared to delve into this.

I have had great superficial relationships with those who practice this religion, but as an adult, there will never be a true bonding. This fact alone troubles me about putting my license with this broker. Most of his agents have last names the same as many streets in my town. So, there is a good chance they also practice the same faith. So, where does that leave me? When push comes to shove, will I be the outsider? And, as much as I liked our chat and the possibilities he is offering, this weighs very heavily in my decision to hang my license with him, because where he goes to church on Sunday will never change.

Though I have written a great deal about these concerns today, there are good items too. I know if what he is offering will be of value, I will have to think about it. He invited me to a meeting in his office on Tuesday. When I explained I had transportation issues, he offered to pick me up. So, it appears he is very interested in me coming aboard. He (apparently) doesn't have a problem with the fact I don't go to his church. I am going to go to the meeting (with my own transportation) because I want to see how he interacts with his agents and how they interact with me. Perhaps then I will be able to either scratch this brokerage off my list and move on or dither some more.

Nothing to Worry About

After my interview (that went better than I was hoping it would--more on that later) Thursday afternoon, I showed Mrs. Worrier another house.

To be clear, this house is 3,000 square feet, four bedrooms, no carpet except the bedrooms, modern by anyone's standards and $1,800 a month--which is high for them, but frankly a bargain in this market. It is managed by the owner.

Getting to the home a few minutes earlier, I had time to walk through, marveling about how lucky Mrs. Worrier would be if she were approved (because, you know, she has the whole bruised credit, pet, no money thing going for her). Indeed it was a lovely place. The pictures don't truly do it justice. It was everything she said she wanted. In fact, I even thought, there is no way she can find fault with this place. 

I am so stupid.

Here are a few, but not all, of her objections. 

1. There is a bedroom downstairs. The worrier's oldest child, a teenager, mind you, cannot possibly sleep in this room because Mrs. Worrier was worried something might happen. So, the downstairs bedroom would be the, "clothes folding room." 

2. There are two secondary bedrooms upstairs. She said they were too small and was I sure this was a 3,000 square foot home?

3. Because I am in sales, and it is inherent in my nature to give counter-suggestions to objections, I did so. When I suggested the loft might be big enough to hold a couple of her littles if she couldn't (somehow) fit them in the other bedrooms, she disagreed. All five children would just have to share the two bedrooms. Also, the loft--which was easily 16 feet by 16 feet, was "too small" for a homeschool space. Besides, there was a wall cut-out and she was worried one of them might fall through it. (I have a slightly similar design. We moved in when Buckaroo was 6 months old. He never fell through it.). I suggested a screen put up over the cut-out. Nope. They might climb the screen and fall through to the downstairs. I decided not to point out the upstairs windows also open to the outside and this may be a hazard too. 

4. The home has a formal living room, dining room, family room, loft and now bonus bedroom for folding clothes. She swears there is no space to homeschool anywhere. 

5. The staircase is "too steep." Apparently. She was worried her children might fall. Or, they would push each other down the stairs. By the way, her youngest is three. I just sold a home with stairs to a family with two children under the age of three. Their attitude was "Hey, let's teach them how to use the stairs and still watch them carefully." (Incidentally, the only human being to this day who has fallen down the stairs in my home is me. I am not even going to give an opinion about parents who have to worry about their children pushing each other down the stairs.) 

6. She was concerned the 2 car garage was too small to hold Mr. Worrier's Prius (she would be parking her 15-passenger van outside because it certainly wouldn't fit in any garage). Also where would they put their camping equipment and bikes? There certainly wasn't room in the 2 car garage that would, possibly be big enough to hold one car. I said the shed out back. Or at least one of the 14 zillion closets could hold the camping gear. But no. I guess the camping gear and bikes are close friends who cannot be separated. 

7. And finally (I am missing a few, I know), she gave me this worry. And I swear, on my bonus mother's grave, I am not making this up. Mrs. Worrier looked at the dining room space and said the space was too small for her table and china hutch. It would just be too "squishy." I asked if the china hutch could go into another space, perhaps--like along another wall? "I don't have a hutch yet. I just want one," she replied. 

And at that point I figured all I was going to get out of today's adventure was blog fodder. So, enjoy. 

Mrs. Worrier did tell me her husband was going to kill her because she just couldn't possibly take this horrible house and he was getting impatient and wants to leave the hotel room. So, I am changing my strategy. I am now only showing homes to her when he is around. He can handle the objections from now on and you folks will have more to read. 

Ronnie and I are Breaking Up

I talked to Ronnie for a while this morning. I think we are going to go in different directions. We will still be friends and the, "Hey can you help me with this client tomorrow?" partners the way we have for the past fifteen years. We just won't be working for the same broker. We will still talk often. But she wants a big, fancy company with name recognition. There is only one big, fancy company with name recognition I would consider (I have interviewed with them all). It happens to be the same one she is considering, but I am not sure I truly want big and fancy. I have done that before and I don't see value in it the way Ronnie does.

So, now my path is (for the moment) a bit less cluttered and my decisions are based on what I need to do to grow and maintain my business and Ronnie's decisions are based on what she needs to do to grow and maintain her business. We are long-time friends. We love each other. But, even yesterday when we sat down to talk (for the ten minutes we had before El Jefe showed up), it was clear to me we needed different things at this point in our careers. It was clear to her too.

This decision of how to begin this new season in my business is going to take some time. My impulse is to just go for it and start my own brokerage. But there are factors I need to consider. Starting my brokerage needs to make financial sense. I haven't really had time or the resources to make this decision.

Today I have an interview with a company I am about 95 percent sure I will not join. Next Monday I have an interview with another company where I will not lay odds if I would move my license for them. I will not change companies for anything commission less than I am making now. And to be fair, any brokerage I look at has to offer me something I can't get from doing this myself. That "something" doesn't have to be money, but it has to be meaningful.

So This Happened...

Ronnie and I met today to discuss our future. About a third of the way though our lunch, a fortune cookie bounces off Ronnie's head and lands in her pad tai. About 10 feet away is El Jefe, with a handful of fortune cookies, and Senora--his second in command--who just happened to be coming in to lunch where we were. Incidentally, Ronnie and I specifically picked our lunch spot because it was several miles from the office and El Jefe swears he doesn't like the place. Anyway, they they pulled up a seat and joined us. El Jefe then started asking us if we had any ideas on how to attract new agents for his office.

Yea... it was awkward. But I am still leaving as soon as I can figure out where to go.

The Paths Unknown

Smack-Dab in the Middle

For a while, I have been toying with where I should go with my real estate vocation. I am not unhappy where I am, but it has become obvious that El Jefe's place, which was once good fit, is no longer. And, after doing a slight analysis, I realized my partner, Ronnie and I have done half the sales for the office for the past two years--and mind you I haven't been active this year until August.

Ronnie and I have great commission splits, so El Jefe isn't making that much money off of us.  Essentially, unless El Jefe has some sort of money laundering business, it is the property management portion of what he does that is keeping the lights on. I happen to know how much property management pays. If you are curious, hit me up and I will give you eight year's of reading on property management. Consider yourself warned. But if you want the condensed version: My bank account is empty, I have gray hair and a bitter taste in my mouth for deadbeat renters.

Yesterday when I was thinking IF I should leave, I said a prayer, and then the phone rang and it was some broker who works with the same mortgage and title people I work with. He heard about me and wanted to know if I might have an interest in joining his office. I laughed hysterically after he introduced himself and then explained I had just said, "amen," and the phone rang. We talked for quite a while, and the gist is I am meeting with him on Thursday afternoon. But I am not convinced he is the best fit for me.

Then I checked my e-mail and there was someone offering me a scholarship for some training I wanted that I couldn't afford. And finally, last night I talked with El Jefe for a bit about unrelated items and he made three or four very rude and uncalled for comments about my kids. We weren't talking about my kids, but he threw a few shots over the barrel anyway for no reason I could fathom. Nor did he back down when I told him he was out of line.

And, my decision to leave was made.

This morning I called Ronnie and told her I am shopping around and invited her to come with me on Thursday. "It's about time," she said. "I have been waiting for you. I've been ready for months." You see, Ronnie and I go together. We have worked together for almost fifteen years. If she goes, I go.

Then she threw this at me, "Why don't you just open up your own brokerage?" Why indeed? I have a broker's license, but I have been burned out beyond belief on being a business owner. Been there, done that, got the bankruptcy to prove it.

But a real estate brokerage with two (possibly three--I need to talk with Jane at some later time) agents is a whole lot different than managing a gazillion rental homes. I would be managing one other seasoned agent who knows as much as I do if not more. The department of real estate doesn't look lightly on business owners who are 14 weeks out of bankruptcy and I would probably have a provisional license until I proved to them I wasn't a crook. Plus, I would not have a trust account, so NO PROPERTY MANAGEMENT.

I would tell you I need to think about this--because I do. But also, I should tell you sitting smack-dab  in the middle of my desk right now is the Arizona Department of Real Estate's application and checklist to open a brokerage. I also have a call into my insurance agent to find out if they carry errors and omissions insurance and surety bonds (that whole bankruptcy thing again). The department makes the process very slow. There are lots of baby steps. I don't just get to throw up a sign in my yard and say, "open for business." There are start-up costs, which I don't have for things like logos, web sites, fees to everyone, licensing, etc. But hey! I made the first decision. I am leaving and Ronnie is coming with me.

The Shelly Game

Last week, my friend and fellow agent Jane, hurt her back. As of this writing, she is still laid up. With Jane out of commission, she asked me to help her client Shelly find a rental. So, I e-mailed Shelly, explaining who I was and why I was e-mailing her. I told her I was a bit late to the party, but so that I could appropriately help her, could she tell me what she was looking for (bedrooms, bathrooms, location, etc.?), any pets, her budget, when she wanted to move and were there any issues such as an eviction, conviction or bruised credit we needed to address upfront with a landlord.

Though these items may sound at the least mundane, and at the most intrusive, they are components of a bigger picture: what is a good fit (home-wise) for Shelly. I mean, if she has three dogs, and wants to live in Scottsdale, and has a budget of $1,200 a month, it might be a good idea to know this upfront, so that I can redirect her to more realistic expectations.

But Shelly, who must have read the same, "How to find a rental home through psychic vibes," article on Zillow that everyone else appears to read, spoon-fed me tid-bits at a maddening slow pace. She also wouldn't answer my calls, but insisted all communication must be by text. I tried e-mail, but after three days of e-mailing her at the same time ever day, all of the sudden her e-mail just, "didn't work."

Unfortunately, Shelly's answers to me (when she answered) were different than the same ones she shared with Jane a week earlier. For example, she told Jane she would be living with her boyfriend. She told me her sister. For Jane, Shelly had fabulous credit. For me, it might have a few teensy issues. For Jane, Shelly made $100k a year. For me she made $10 an hour and her sister was loaded. All of this took more time and patience than it should have on my part, because I didn't even know where to start looking for her because answers to questions such as, "What city do you wish to live in and what is your monthly rental budget?" went unanswered.

Finally, Shelley who must have been as sick of my questions as I was of asking them, sent me a list of homes she found on Zillow, demanding to look at that evening at 6 p.m. That's wonderful and everything but I wasn't sure I was available, and even if I was, it is dark at 6 p.m., so I needed to contact the agents to make sure the home was 1) available to show and 2) had the power on. But sadly, because this list didn't come from any source I use, all of the homes she sent me weren't even active. They were all old listings.

Shelly didn't believe me, because you know, Zillow is uuber-accurate. Apparently.

The biggest piece of information Shelly withheld was when did she need to move. Jane told me her lease expired on her current home at the end of January. Shelly refused to answer me at all (though I asked several times). That is a significant problem. There is no landlord in this market who will hold a home eight weeks. So if Shelly really wants to move at the end of January, we shouldn't even be looking now. If she needs to move this week, I need to find rental homes that are vacant and move-in ready. But Shelly never responded to this and I gave up. When I called Jane to give her an update, Jane agreed, it just didn't smell right. And at that point, I just decided I had spent enough time with Shelly and moved on.

I'm Just Throwing this Out There...

One last prayer-thingy story I will stop. Today, while driving home from my meeting, I prayed for my path to be "abundantly clear." You see, I am making some difficult decisions and need guidance. Right as I said "amen," the phone rang from some random being I have never met who wanted to talk to me about the exact chat I had just had with the Almighty.

Then, when I got home, there was an e-mail from another random person I have never met offering me some guidance I didn't ask for, but also in the direction I was toying with going.

Is this my answered prayer? I don't know. It is way too soon for me to make a decision. But I feel certainly feel like my direction is clear.

The Football Boys

The ASU football players moved on. One of the more responsible ones sent me a nice text telling me they couldn't come to an agreement and then thanked me for my time. Truly, it was for the best, because my heart would have been broken to tell them they were going to be rejected anyway. They were really nice kids, but not a good fit.

Though on scholarship, between the three of them, they did not make two and a half times the rent--which is a deal breaker. And they might have great apartment rental history, it was obvious from where I watched, their rental history had nothing to do with renting anything bigger than an apartment. Several grown-up items, such as buying appliances, maintaining a home and paying for utilities were out of the grasp for one of them. It isn't that they couldn't handle these grown-up activities, at least two of them probably could, it is just it was a lot to learn very quickly. And to be fair, a landlord doesn't need to have this learning curve on his watch.

Generally when I know someone is going to continue looking for a place, I offer to help. It gives me a chance to make a little money where I can. However, dealing with three college students--all whom might not have established credit at the very least, and at the most, need a co-signer, is tricky. It requires an owner to want to agree to these terms. Why would an owner do that when there is another renter right around the corner? These boys have very good taste in homes. Unfortunately, so do the owners. And it might be best for them to cut their teeth on an apartment for a little bit longer.

Gathering Nuts

I showed a rental home earlier this week to three Arizona State University football players. The house in question is in Tempe (out of Mrs. Worrier's budget and managed by my property management company, so no). It is 2,400 square feet and $2000 a month. It is in a pretty nice neighborhood actually.

It is funny, just by looking at a picture of the living room/dining area I could tell it was a Lennar, split bedroom plan. Not that anyone would know or care what that meant. Basically I could describe the inside without ever stepping foot on the property. I swear there are only about 7 floor plans, with lots of variations. So, if you have seen one, you have seen them all. But I digress...

Anyway, I took Buckaroo with me, as I don't show rentals to people I don't know. Two of the boys were very nice and respectful. The other was a bit squirrely and I can't tell what it is about him but he and I didn't hit it off. He had a strange nervous vibe and was putting me slightly on edge. The other two ran interference when they could between him and I, as if they were sensing he had to be handled.

The three asked me questions such as "who mows the lawn." (me: "which ever of you decides to mow it") and "is electricity included?" (only if you pay for it). "How do we get a washer and dryer?" (May I introduce you to a nifty little site called craigslist?). All of these questions told me these guys had never rented a house before. The two who didn't make me on edge, took the answers in stride, as if this was all a part of adulting and they appreciated the heads' up. The other one asked questions like, "what do you think a lawn mower costs?" and "what happens if we let the grass grow too long?" Truly, I am surprised the other two didn't stop him from asking these questions, because it was obvious to them I was paying close attention.

As a former landlord, I wouldn't rent to them. I don't like roommate situations. If one leaves, everything goes South. In the best case they get another roommate to split the rent and don't tell the owner. In the worst case, they all abandon the property. Given they don't seem to understand the concept of maintaining a home I am seeing a huge learning curve on some owner's asset.

I made it clear I don't handle the application process, nor do I handle the approval process. If they like the house and apply, I probably won't see them again even if they get the property. However, I will tell El Jefe my opinion of them. And right now my opinion is to wait a little bit longer and see who else applies. The squirrely one may be worth passing on.

Standards

When you have five children and are homeless, living at your parent's home, it might behoove you to lower your standards. Mrs. Worrier (she really is a super-nice person and I do like her) is doing all of the above except lowering her standards. Her parents are livid and want her gone. Her husband, for some reason, is bunking in a hotel until they find a place. But Mrs. Worrier has standards, little cash and poor credit. Here is her non-negotiable items for her next rental home.

1. Not managed by a property management company. No exceptions. She had a bad experience once. 
2. No carpet. It might get wet. 
3. Must be in the City of Tempe. Mind you, that's not very many homes and Tempe just happens to be adjacent to Scottsdale, Mesa and Chandler, but no. Tempe or nothing. By the way, Mr. Worrier works in North Scottsdale. But, East Phoenix is not an option either. 
4. Must be at least 2,000 square feet. 1,975 square feet is NOT 2,000 square feet. So, no exceptions there either.
5. Must have no less than 4 bedrooms. Also non-negotiable. 
6. Can't cost more than $1400/month. That's truly all they can afford, however they are looking in the $1700-$1800/month range because they can't find anything. Most rentals that are 2,000 square feet are about $1900-$2200/month right now. 
7. Must be updated and modern. I don't know what this means, but she seems to know. 

I am guessing she will find a place on her own and then ask me a million questions about whether or not it is the "right" house. I am thinking any place she eventually agrees to rent will be the right house. I won't get a commission when all is said and done. That's fine. I am spending more time writing about her than helping her.

The Security Deposit

Mrs. Worrier, my serial rental client, called me yesterday. You see, she had just moved out of her rental and she was, ... wait for it... worried. What if she doesn't get her security deposit back? What then?

I stupidly asked why did she think she wouldn't get her security deposit back. Didn't she leave the house in the same shape she found it in?

Well, apparently she left it in almost the same shape she found the house in. Except there were a few "very minor" teensy, tiny really, issues. First, one of her children broke off a panel of the vertical blinds. 

"I think you are on the hook for that set of blinds," I replied. 

She asked, incredulously, "Why don't they just replace the one blind I broke?" 

I didn't explain that the person who "replaces" the one blind that was broken would have to hunt down the pattern about six different stores and then hire someone to replace it. By the time that person was done, they have spent their own time and money to do so. It is easier and quicker to just replace the entire blind. It may not be "fair" (because I assure you, Mrs. Worrier did not think it was the least bit fair) but neither was it fair for Mrs. Worrier to give back the home with broken blinds. 

Biting my tongue, I wanted to desperately ask if the owner should have to shoulder the cost of his or her time because the Worriers couldn't be bothered to take care of the blinds? If they don't want to pay for new blinds because they didn't take care of the ones in the home, maybe they should have gone to different stores looking for a matching panel and reinstalled it. 

Blinds aside, Mrs. Worrier had a bigger issue. Apparently her husband spilled "a spot" of bleach on the brown carpet. I don't know how big a spot happens to be or where it was located, but I got the impression for our conversation that it was big enough and conspicuous enough that Mr. Worrier then took a magic marker and colored the carpet to make it match. Unfortunately, it didn't match. "They can't possibly charge us for a new carpet, can they?" 

Not only can they, the owner will and and should. "But it isn't really ruined, I mean it is still carpet." Mrs. Worrier said. 

I equated it to spilling bleach on a black dress. The dress is still wearable, but let's face it, the dress is ruined. No amount of magic marker is going to hide the spot. And then Mrs. Worrier said again what every renter in her situation has said before her. "Well, that's just not fair." 

For those of you who don't know me, please understand. I have tenant PTSD. It will never go away, though I manage it under most circumstances. Given they are my clients and given they have referred me to many who aren't train wrecks, I caught myself before I went off--because I really wanted to. Instead, I just told her to take it up with the owner, as I didn't really have much else to say she would want to hear. 

She said she would. Then she told me she will, "never rent another home that has carpet." Well, at this point, she isn't renting anything because there is nothing out there that meets her bat-crazy criteria. 

The Great Flood

I don't often post about my private, spiritual life. But I have one. It comes in handy when (in no particular order) I'm:

• running/closing an accidental business
• selling real estate
• homeschooling
• raising teenagers
• mourning the loss of my bonus mother
• pulling one's self up from financial ruin
• dealing with rentals and soon to be homeless renters

In this case, a couple of weeks ago, I mentioned the chaos magnet I am dealing with. My clients are serial renters who seem to have drama follow them where ever they go. In some cases, the drama is unfathomable. I mean, at some point it suspends reality to worry about a herd of buffalo stampeding through your dining room, but yet!

The Mrs., who is a very sweet person, is a chronic worrier. I am guessing from the dynamic of her and her husband, this is a bone of contention in their marriage. Also, because of their last rental nightmare, the Mrs. and her five children are living at her parents' home. (The husband is in a hotel--I don't know why). The Mrs. and the Mr. have both told me her parents are kicking them out. So, if one needs a home pretty darn quickly, it would be best to actually find one. But that's just me.

Anyway, the Mrs. has some tough criteria. She doesn't want under 2000 square feet. She doesn't want anything managed by a property manager company (she had a "bad" experience once). The property can't "feel" old and a litany of other intangibles. Two weeks ago I thought we had found it. Except it was "old" and she wasn't sure whether or not it was falling apart. After an hour of dithering at the home, she even asked me if I thought it might catch fire.

At any rate, they applied and were approved.

And then she sent me a text message, concerned that the place may flood. Well, you know, anything can happen. There is no reason to think it would flood any more than there is any reason to think it might catch fire. It wasn't just one text message. Mrs. Constant Worrier, sent manuscript, concerned  about what would happen if there were a few drops of water on the inside. She dithered for hours about this. I know this because she wrote volumes to me via text message about her dithering. She told me the worry was making her sick. It was giving me a headache.

But both of us being the Catholic, when she called I talked and prayed with her. I asked for the decision to be abundantly clear. That there would be no question in her mind whether or not this was the house for her. We said "Amen" and I went on with my day.

A few hours later she called me. She was at the house right then and there with the listing agent to hand over her deposit. And what do you know? There was two inches of water throughout the front room. And here is the weird part. The water to the house was off.

Had she been at the house prior to this and known it? Maybe? But doubtful. Especially when she called me crying, wondering what to do. Besides, she has transportation issues like I do right now. And it doesn't change the fact the water was OFF. It hadn't rained recently. The water department hadn't run over there from Friday night to turn it on and then back over on Sunday afternoon to turn off the water. And why would the owner want to pay for that even if the water department did do this?

At any rate, all I asked her was, did this qualify as "abundantly clear?" Apparently it did.

My Babies

Buckaroo (8) and Polly (10), 2010 

I watched the teens jump on the trampoline today. It was a blast to see them acting and reacting the same way towards each other that they have for the past 15 years. They truly are the best of friends. I will miss these days. Growing up is harder on me than on them.

The Business Plan

Though it would be really nice to go into 2018 blindly, and just sell what I sell, it isn't feasible. So, every year around this time I come up with a business plan. I am the only one at my office who does this. But I have to tell you, the years I have taken the hour or two to figure out how much I need to make and what my projected expenses and taxes would be, have been much more productive than the years I haven't.

Simply, it looks like for us to achieve our goals next year (including, in case this hasn't come up, buying a car), I need to sell between 10-13 homes. I sold six this year (so far), and I only worked four months, so I know it is doable. Of course, if I don't hit my goal the world doesn't end. Marty has a job and carries our insurance.

Incidentally, here are our goals: a car (did I mention that?), being able to pay for Polly's tuition, a few various things that need to be done around the home and some travel that we expect to do. In addition, we want to have at minimum least three month's living expenses in the bank--just in case. 2019 will bring different goals. Baby steps.

My income since 2007 or so was sucked into the now-defunct accidental business. This year it went to taking care of lingering accidental business garbage. So, starting in 2018 I can actually take what I make and put it towards our future, that is, AFTER the car.

Even starting at $0, it is nice to be in a position to look forward to some healthy pursuit instead of the former dysfunctional world of suck that I was stuck in.

Creative Travel

Admit it, this looks like fun.

  I just talked to my brother about our upcoming trip to visit him in California. I explained we had to buy a stove today--though it was a bargain, on clearance even!--but it killed our measly savings account. I explained that the trip to The Getty or Knotts Berry Farm or a day trip to Solvang, might not be happening.

He shared with me that on top of our stove purchase, they needed a dishwasher. However, my sister-in-law is on medical leave for the next several months, so any major appliance purchase on their end was on hold. Additionally we could nix taking a trip to the beach, as she cannot travel.

But, no matter what, they just wanted us to visit. That works well for us, because we still wanted to come. In the end we decided I would bring paper plates and a few extra sheets. We would then make a fort in his living room and just play cards inside the fort for a few days.

Looking forward to it.

Murphy's Latest Prank

Murphy and I are good friends. His last joke was destroying my oven. The oven went out in a blaze of glor... never mind. It went out in a blaze.

Fortunately, Murphy waited until after Mr. Reader Number Two left (we fed him lunch--roast pork, roasted Brussels sprouts, homemade bread, pie--you see the need for the oven?). Also, fortunately, it is not my responsibility to host Thanksgiving, so I don't need an oven at least until Friday. Unfortunately, drop-in stoves are much, much more expensive than your run-of-the-mill regular stove. And, they are apparently less reliable, as this will the second time we have replaced the darn thing. I did find a used one, but given it is the same brand and age as the one I have, I wasn't as excited. The one I have never really worked right to begin with.

Today, I told Polly that it looked like our California trip later this year was on hold because we needed to buy a new stove. She looked at me, and with all seriousness said, "How badly do we need an oven?" Yeah... I think it will take precedent over a trip--though I am still crossing my fingers on the trip, but probably not.

Being 12 weeks north of financial ruin has been interesting. Our small savings is once again going to be ravaged by our second house emergency (there was a sewage backup and subsequent new hot water heater necessary last month). It happens.

I would dare say all of these little Murphy-type things are just a result of deferred maintenance for the past 9 years, as we were consumed with lots of other non-urgent fire drills that had us making other financial decisions.  But I have to wonder, how do those who don't have a meager savings handle these types of things because, at least for us, we are one Murphy prank shy of being a train wreck. And though that makes great blog fodder, it kind of sucks for those of us who have to live it.

The great news is that we have the money available for a stove. The not so great news is that our California trip is probably on hold. The really annoying news is my future car is probably still in the distant future.

Banana Bread

The kids and I made three loaves of banana bread today. It was fun to watch Buckaroo mash the bananas while Polly ran the mixer. The recipe belonged to Reader Number Two, my bonus mother. She used to make it for me about twice a year when I was younger. Hopefully my bread will be half as good as hers. Today's memories were good. We had fun and laughed.

Then I sat back and reflected upon my blog journal entries for the past year. What a year! This time last year we were in the early stages of closing the accidental business. We knew it was coming, but not when. Mr. Ex-Partner was peppering me with lots of questions, most he didn't like the answer to anyway. It was as if, he knew what the logical course of action happened to be but was hoping for a simpler and happier outcome. Sorry 'bout that.

Closing the business was emotional, but the true, raw emotion consumed me a couple of years before we made the decision to close. When the inevitable was in front of us the process was mechanical, though once in a while self-doubt and self-disapproval haunted me. Moving on wasn't tough, I was ready. Looking back, it was probably for the best that I had emotionally unattached myself a couple years prior.

The truth is, I know I did everything I could. There were other circumstances too. I learned. My conscience is clear. The end.

Growing away from that chapter of our lives this past few months has been interesting. Of course, the past four months and one day have stunted me a bit, as I mourned my dear friend and mother-by-heart. But now I smile when I make her banana bread. But looking back, I can see I have been healing from the accidental business stuff too. It wasn't only financial that plagues me. It is that fourteen years went by without a better ultimate outcome. If I hadn't done this, where would my life had taken me, I wonder.

Would I have been more emotionally available to my children and their education? Would we have needed my income? Would I have gotten terribly ill in 2009, to the point where I needed surgery in March and thought for sure my life was over that October? In those situations, there isn't room to panic because it takes too much strength. I didn't have it. Both illnesses I attribute to stress. Would we have had a nice retirement nest egg by now, or would we have squandered the money because we didn't know any better and only through this accidental business process did we learn these lessons? These are things I wonder.

My children don't feel like they were abandoned--I have asked. They don't feel like they "missed out" a childhood or specifically, additional opportunities. They tell me they have happy memories in the past 14 years of our family being a family and special times with me. I am glad to hear that. Hopefully making banana bread will be another memory for them too.