My weekend of grieving was interrupted by strep throat. Thank you Buckaroo for this gift. It was probably for the best. Sleeping was a lot easier than thinking. This morning I got a few pictures from Bonus Mom's sister with a note to me. I smiled when I saw them. Isn't that what healing is supposed to do? Let us smile when we see those who we loved and have left us?
Unfortunately, my clients and the agents involved really don't care if I feel miserable and all I want to do is down shots of liquid Tylenol and sleep. So, this weekend I negotiated a peace treaty which went something like this:
Me to Client: the seller wants to get back into your house and take another look because the home inspector says none of your lights are working.
Client (with a reasonable, yet annoyed, timbre to her voice): so we need to inconvenience the tenant again?
Me: Yes. If this isn't acceptable to you, the seller is going to ask for you to pay an electrician to go out there and change the light bulbs or rewire the home.
Client: Let me make a call to the tenant.
Me: Is there a chance there is a problem with the electricity?
Client: There is a better chance the tenant just hasn't changed any light bulb in the past 5 years.
I actually agreed with that, but it was best to gain access to the home anyway. I set this up for tomorrow, with the hopes that by the time I find antibiotics (on the list for today) I will have enough energy to drive over and run interference with the selling agent and the tenant. If not, they are on their own.
In other news, the client of the margarita transaction texted me today. "We just electronically signed a Closing Disclosure! That means we get keys, right?" No that just means she will have lots more paper to sign (in the presence of a title officer) later this week and then will get keys next week. But I wasn't sure I got through to her. I had been awake for five minutes and I was ready for my next nap.
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