Pulling Rank

I did something this week, I never want to have done, or have done to me. I contacted the other agent's broker.

You see, in addition to the crazy demands in the inspection notice, the agent wrote on the very first line: "This Buyer's Notice and inspection attached and now made part of the purchase contract."

Oh. Hell. No.

We aren't making anything "part of the purchase contract." Ever. The purchase contract is already set. Terms are agreed. We aren't putting requests for rain gutters, a demand for a new dishwasher and a seller paying an HVAC guy for an inspection as part of the terms and conditions to buy this house.

And then, when through text messages and e-mails to the agent I explained this would not be happening, I was getting nowhere. The more I explained my clients would not allow these requested repairs to become legally and binding the more she dug her heels in.

To be fair, I think she saw that language somewhere else and thought she could add it into the notice and it would sound fancy and flowery.

In the end, I sent everything to her and her broker. I said I needed a signed addendum immediately scratching this from the inspection notice. If not, I was going to have to advise my clients what she wrote (which I did anyway, but my folks didn't seem to get the enormity of the situation).

Getting the broker involved is a huge insult. I've had a few issues with this agent already (not personal issues, more of her not understanding the terms of the purchase contract), and did not want to escalate another one but I couldn't let this sit. I'm hoping this won't cause more problems in this sale for her clients or mine. I did what was best. It is what I am paid to do. My conscience is clear. But it still felt icky.

On a related note, the director of the real estate school which hired me is working on a curriculum for the buyer's inspection notice. Once this transaction is over, I promised to forward her this particular document (with the names and address redacted, of course) so that she can share with others what not to do. There is a lot of material here.

Contract Nerdiness

They say when the real estate market is good, everyone with a pulse gets their license. I am starting to believe there is a truth to this. I have a listing. It is my second listing in the past few weeks where the agent is asking for odd things for their client.

This agent has been licensed for a couple of years. She has sold a considerable amount of homes, given she has only been practicing since 2016. I give her credit for her hustle.

When I got the list of repairs her client wants though, I raised an eyebrow. There is a disconnect here.

The contract states the buyer has 10 days to perform all inspections necessary to make sure this is the home they want. If they find some sort of latent defect or something they "disapprove" of, they can ask for this to be remedied. I equate it to buying a used car from a person off the street. The terms and conditions are negotiated. But then the buyer takes the car out for a test drive and finds out there is a soft tire. The condition of the tire is discussed, not a new price. The car buyer can't go back and ask for custom rims or other accessories that weren't on the car to begin with. Plus, if the buyer doesn't find anything wrong, they can't ask the seller to take it to a mechanic at the seller's expense to see if the buyer missed something.

So, back to the house sale. This buyer's agent is asking for a few items that blow me away. First, they want rain gutters installed. The house doesn't come with rain gutters. The buyers knew this when they put the offer in. But now they want rain gutters. DO THEY NOT KNOW THIS IS ARIZONA? By the way, the sellers will not install rain gutters, a swimming pool or an East wing.

Next, the buyer wants the seller to have a HVAC technician evaluate the AC unit to see if anything is wrong. If something is found, they want the seller to fix it. They don't want to have their own HVAC company look at the unit. Nope, they want the seller to perform the inspection. Why on earth did the buyer's agent let this happen? Never mind.

Finally, the buyers had a roofer go to the house. However, the roofer did not provide an inspection report and when they buyers turned in their list of demands, they didn't include an inspection report. However, they want the sellers to hire their own roofer to evaluate the roof and then have the sellers do whatever their roofer says needs to be done.

All of this is can be addressed. In fact, it will be addressed. But there is no easy way to write the seller's response without making the buyer's agent look like a clown. To cover my seller's I need to say something along the lines of, "Because the buyers did not provide the sellers with a roof inspection, the sellers have nothing to fix."

Of course the back conversation goes like this to my sellers: "Hey, if there is something wrong with the roof, you might want to fix it, because if you don't do it for this buyer, you are doing it for the next one." But I am not telling the buyer's agent that. 

Why Indeed

Polly said, "This has to be a blog post. Mom! Why??? Why would someone do this?"

Here is a home in Bradenton Florida--one of the areas that wanted to hire Marty. Gee, we could have lived here.

You will need to scroll through the pictures on Realtor.com (link attached HERE) to find out what Polly is talking about.


If you can't get the link to work above (click on the word "here") try this long way.

https://www.realtor.com/realestateandhomes-detail/1431-Thistledown-Dr_Brandon_FL_33510_M68475-95207?cid=soc_shares_ldp_fb&fbclid=IwAR3fvIQOnkp354XV1mRAELK_HBoNfprwGj1cdflKV1BJ_wd67dhj6g1fXe0#photo5

I promise it is fun.

If Life Had Taken A Different Turn

If Marty hadn't delined the job in Fort Myers, I would be on the road right now driving to the swamp to start a new life. It is sort of mind-blowing.

We will eventually move. But that wasn't the right opportunity.

Borrowing Trouble

Here's the scenario: Mary and Tom live back east. They have a home in Gilbert they rented to a family friend a few years ago. Family friend pays less than market rent, has bruised credit, lives on disability and has been ill for a few years. She is now somewhat fully recovered, still doesn't work and has done nothing to better herself, her credit or her circumstances.

Mary and Tom told this person more than a year ago that they would be selling the home next spring and she would need to find a new place to live. But no worries! She had "time."

Now then, for those graduates of my Landlord 101 course, don't spoil it for the rest of the class. Besides, you and I know you are busy snorting the cold beverage of your choice out your nose right now.

Mary and Tom called me today to ask my opinion of how cooperative I thought Family Friend was going to be (Breathe Graduates, BREATHE!!!!). By the way, Mary and Tom have not taken my Landlord 101 course and were slightly appalled at my position on their entire scenario.

Here's how I see it playing out if Family Friend doesn't move out. After all, she has no reason to be cooperative.

First, Family Friend will not be cooperative about having the house shown. She can refuse to allow for a lock box. She can refuse to allow reasonable entry. Yes, the Arizona Landlord Tenant act does say access can be granted to a rental property with a two day notice, but if there is no lockbox, and a passive aggressive tenant paying less than market rent who has nowhere to go, what are the odds, a buyer is going to get into the house to view it? In addition, Family Friend does not have to keep the home in pristine condition. She can also follow the prospective buyer around pointing out potential defects and problems (such as saying to a potential buyer, "Next door is a sex offender. Did you know that?" Even if it isnt' true).

Given there is a shortage of rental homes and Family Friend has no money (and did not pay a security deposit) to move, I doubt this will go well. Unfortunately, Tom and Mary are of the mind everything will be peachy keen. When I asked when was the last time they actually spoke to the Family Friend, Mary hesitated and said they hadn't spoken in person since she gave her tenant notice she would have to move--like a year ago. Since then, the family friend refuses to take Mary's calls, won't respond to texts or e-mails. So, Mary tends to contact Family Friend's adult son--who lives out of state--and asks him to please have Family Friend respond. That's the only way this tenant will get back with her. Mary didn't really see this as the least bit dysfunctional until I asked about it.

I am hoping this will work out for the best, but I'm always hoping that is the case. In the mean-time, I recommended they look at speaking with an attorney and checking on their legal rights. I might be borrowing trouble, but then again, I might also have graduated with honors from the School of Hard Knocks.

Sleeping It Off

I am on the cusp of getting really ill. I know this because Buckaroo was really ill this week and I have the same symptoms. In fact, there was an incident in Jane's truck. It was gross. It confirmed what I already knew: he was sick. And now I am on the before-Jane's-truck-incident level of ill.

And I am a true delight.

Part of my annoyance is that as a real estate agent, I can't have personal problems in peace. Clients don't care one jolly darn what we might have going. If it doesn't affect them, it it irrelavant.

In the past two years I have been in urgent care for stitches with my phone ringing off the hook from folks who really could have waited a day or so for me to get back with them. I have done walk-throughs with strep throat. And I even dealt with a contract during the days after Bonus Mom passed.

I once had heat exhaustion* from showing homes and was ready to pass out. My folks wanted to see three more properties. And.... it was a buyer's market, so we had time. But no. It had to be then.

Early in my career, I once had a buyer call me at 5:30 a.m. demanding I get dressed and show them a property, right then and there. My kids were little. It had been a tough night at the Sunshine house. Sadly, I was awake, only because I hadn't gone to bed. I lost that client (who did not buy that house anyway) because every reasonable plea of, "let me call you back during business hours" made him more annoyed.

Right now I am in the early stages of what I know is to come and my clients are going to expect me to negotiate tonight. I know this. It comes with the territory. If I whine I am unprofessional. If I suggest I am ill to them, I am less credible. But I am also trying to work in their best interests. Sometimes their best interests is letting me sleep off an illness.

*I also once had heat exhaustion after I showed homes. Those folks were super-wonderful about it--so there are good folks too.

Introvert Hell

I was invited to the Association's Leadership happy hour this past week. Which brings up a few interesting questions:

1. Why are my dues paying for a bartender?
2. What is the Association Leadership?

The answer to the first question I will let just hang. I sell houses. I deal with unreasonable people. I think I have earned a glass of wine once in a while. The answer to the second is a bit more ambigious.

So there is a "Leadership Class" at the local association. I am not sure exactly what they do. The classes are for 12 weeks once a year. You can only get into this class if you are nominated, fill out a crap ton of paperwork and then sit in front of a selection committee. If you pass muster with the selection committee you get an engraved invitation (or something) to join.

One can only be nominated by a Leadership Alumni, which is why I was there. I have been nominated.

This happy hour was the precursor to the remainder of the process, where I got to mingle with the members of the selection committee. Think Rush Week with more adult baggage and less Greek letters.

Anyway I was nominated. When this was brought to my attention I was being nominated, I was in the throes of possibly, maybe, probably moving to Fort Myers and I didn't readily commit. I wasn't against the idea of joining the 2020 Leadership Class, but I just could not think past the middle of September. When things settled down and Marty declined the job and then decided to stop job hunting, I revisited this gracious invitation. However I had no idea it required a happy hour and small talk.

Family Buffoonery*

Marty wanted me to make sure I told you three everything in the Sunshine home is peachy keen.

Except my mother is coming to visit.

*The Abridged Version

September's Community Outreach Committee Meeting

Median Art

Geez! It's September already???

Marty asked why I stay with this committee, because every meeting is one level higher of buffoonery than the next. There's a simple reason: I want to teach at the Association. If I were to leave my post before my one year obligation, it wouldn't reflect the best light, so I will tough out the next three meetings. After all, I came this far. Plus, nobody on that committee gives a crap if I am there or not, so why rock the boat and formally resign or draw attention to myself by being absent?

So we had a meeting yesterday. The meeting was overshadowed by my personal family buffoonery and chaos which prompted Jane to drag me to lunch where I could munch on onion rings and rub my temples. Gotta love Jane.

Anyway, I have mentioned Muffy, the committee chair. She is dismissive and arrogant. No wonder they have so much trouble getting members. I haven't mentioned Butch, the vice chair. He is one of those snark-monsters who has to make some sort of snide comment every time someone speaks. It shuts down the creative process and any empowerment. I hadn't payed attention to his behavior until yesterday, while I watched him do this to several other people. How has nobody noticed this? This entire group is a study in dysfunction. I would be annoyed if I wasn't utterly fascinated by this group dynamic.

Helping others

There were the usual issues, all of which nobody wants to solve (or those who want to resolve them  just don't speak up any more). We need lockboxes for the first responders in the various cities. We need to find a way to encourage agents who step foot into the Association to write letters to soldiers stationed overseas. We have a critical needs fund. I stopped being super-concerned about the critical needs fund when I found out there is more money in this fund than Marty and I make in a single year. Plus, They have only given away about 10 percent of those funds. The fund has money. They don't need people asking for donations this time of year.

Sure thing

Apparently this committee also collects Christmas trees and decorations for needy families. When I asked if we could possibly ask for ornament donations it was a "No." A single "donation" has to consist of: a 6" or taller Christmas Tree (not a small one!), decorations for the full tree, lights, a tree skirt and a non-religious tree topper. All or nothing! 

Oh yes! And the donation must include an extension cord. Otherwise, (as Butch said,) "Why bother doing this at all?"

I didn't shut up there, but I did after the next bit. We have been given a small monetary grant to be used to add value to our community. We are to spend this money to help in some capacity, but the direction was unspecific, other than it had to be for the "greater good" and to "help" others. On a whim, I suggested a couple of pergola-type structures to go over park playground equipment so kids could play outside a bit longer in the year. It wasn't my greatest idea. It was off the top of my head. I'm not attached to this. However, nobody else was giving suggestions. A few folks started talking about what we could do to make this work (translation: they weren't against it) until Butch made some rude comment and shut down the entire conversation. I would have been offended if I didn't already have one foot out the door.

Then, a friend of Muffy's said that the median at some remote intersection in the East Valley was "ugly" and maybe we could put some artwork there. After all is for the greater good and in order to "help" they will put a bench in the median so--and I am not making this up--the homeless will have a place to sit when they are asking for donations.

Oh... why not! 

This idea (which may or may not have merit) never went for discussion. Instead Butch and Muffy immediately agreed this was route we would be going. End of story. There was no vote. I asked for one, but Butch ignored me and Muffy called the meeting to a close. It was totally surreal. I would be annoyed except I have my own personal family buffoonery going on, which is much, much more surreal.

Three more meetings and then I am going to have to find something else to write about. These folks are nuts.

What They Never Tell You In Real Estate School

So tomorrow I am previewing a home. The agent mentions on his MLS listing about three times: the lockbox is on the gas meter.

Was this dude the last human being alive to know that one shouldn't hang anything from a fully functioning gas meter? I mean, I get my son is in fire fighter training and I learn all sorts of scary things, but even before he started regaling me with horror stories, I pretty much knew this was a no-brainer.

I called the agent and asked if the gas was on. Yep. When I asked if he would consider moving the lockbox to anywhere else, he was perplexed. I then proceeded to delicately explain to him that if the metal lockbox scraped against the metal gas meter it might cause a spark. And that could cause a boom. And that would be bad. In fact, it probably would deter his paycheck because the seller would have to rebuild the house. And buyers are kind of fussy about having a death on a property. And plus, I don't really feel like being involved in a fire caused by a gas explosion.

So, could he please move the lock box. Please.

And just to be sure I wasn't over-exaggerating, I checked with the family Fire Marshall and googled my concerns. Between the horror stories I found on the Internet and Buckaroo, I am going to go with my common sense was right.

Now I know what to do: simply be careful. I am not terribly worried I will cause a fire. But sheesh.

One of My Side Projects

I haven't written much about this, primarily because I was afraid I would jinx it or something. Plus, there was the whole Marty was interviewing out of state thingy, and that kind of took priority. After all, if we were moving, this wouldn't be happening at all. Right?

Here's the scoop:  I just filled out all the paperwork for the Arizona Department of Real Estate--7 pages all hand-written, another form saying I am not a felon and an updated resume and sent them to a real estate school. I had to prove I have my teaching certifications and am qualified to tell other folks about real estate. Anyway, this school has offered to sponsor me (that is a fancy AZ Department of Real Estate word for "hire") and let me be a real estate instructor.

There is still much, much more to do, like write a class--which has to happen before I can teach a class. But it looks like this is going to happen. My guess is I will be an instructor in 2020.

I AM SO EXCITED!!!!

Focusing on the Plethora of Projects

So I called the appraiser and cancelled our interview for the job as his assistant. I told him I am a broker, sell houses (which aren't the same), in appraisal school and hope to be be teaching real estate classes soon. Plus, I homeschool Buckaroo, manage a household and do a plethora of other projects.

With that list, he agreed and didn't sound too upset. Who could blame him when he has a perfectly wonderful candidate in Jane.

Which brings up the other reason I cancelled the interview. Jane. I never told her I was interviewing. This is something she needs more than I do. I don't know if the appraiser will hire her. But I do know I don't want to be any reason she isn't hired (she's more qualified, really). I don't regret my decsion. The extra cash would have been nice, but I think I would like to use that space in my life for the plethora of other projects in my life.

Interviewing

I have an interview tomorrow for the appraisal assistant position. I told Jane about it a couple of weeks ago and gave her the guy's contact info. To be fair, I told him about her as well before I sent him my resume. Jane's interviewing too--but I haven't told her I am meeting with him. Besides, I am convinced she is a better fit. I'm totally ok with that too, because I am not sure I even want, or have time for, one more thing on my plate.

For the past few days I've been trying to think of how to distinguish myself as different or better candidate for this position than Jane. I just can't. She is organized. She likes paper. She is bossier than me--and we all know that's pretty damn bossy. She is detailed. She is sharp. My files may be organized, but my desk is not. Her desk is always organized. Always. Paper doesn't paralyze her. She likes going to Office Max. I need to have to have smelling salts administered 35 seconds after I walk in the door.

I want to learn about appraisals. My appraisal classes are starting soon. Working for an appraiser is a short-term way to gain a lot of inside knowledge. I would embrace that opportunity. But this dude is looking for an assistant to help him behind the scenes. It is paperwork and phone calls. What's best for him isn't a self-employed, demanding Type-A who will inadvertently control the interview process to see if I'm going to get along with him. What's best for him is someone who will take care of the everyday tasks to make sure his business is running the best it can be so that he can be the best he can be. This is honestly a no-brainer. If I were hiring an assistant and it was Jane or anyone else they wouldn't stand a chance. Jane totally rocks for this.

What High-Strung Type A's Do

So I managed to spend three hours of my life signing up for an appraisal class. I should preference that by saying, I am taking it throught the community college instead of through the realtor school. That's ok, because I can go slower. It was pointed out that the last two times I took a class at this particular community college I got pregnant. In fact one time, I turned about six shades of green fifteen minutes into the instructor's lecture and then proceeded to run out of the room. And then I did so every 10 minutes or so for the next 14 weeks of class. But, I digress...

Speaking of going slower, signing up for this class took some sort of monumental act of patience on my part. You see, though I was in their system, the community college decided they could not let me into this class until I provided proof I was eligible to indeed attend their school. First, they demanded high school transcripts. I went to three high schools back in the 1980s. I graduated before the wheel was invented. Besides, as I pointed out to the unassuming student employee (who was young enough to be my child), even my kids, who are students there, didn't have to provide transcripts. They aren't necessary.

Well, if I wasn't going to hunt down my transcripts, I could provide my SAT or ACT score. No, I could not. Do people keep such things 35+ years later? Besides, when are SAT and ACTs required for junior college?

And, if all else fails, I could come in for a reading and writing test. Then they could enroll me.

Or, instead, I could just ask for someone in a position of authority, say a few honey-coated big syllable words and explain I am happy to pay my money just as soon as they open up my enrollment. And by the way, that worked.

Once that was underway, I went to log on to my class. And what do you know, there was a glitch. There was no record of me paying my money (from an hour earlier). After puttering around with the computer system, I did what any reasonable Type-A would do, I googled the instructor at his real job, and just called the dude. It wasn't his job to get these things done, but he managed to help me out. He also told me Assignment 1 was a getting to know you assignment.

So, when I finally started reading through everything, the computer screen had a blank Assignment 1. I looked over five other pages, all told me how to submit this particular lesson, but no guidelines on what was needed. Screw it. It is 10 points and has nothing to do with appraisals. I wrote the instructor a quick note, explaining nowhere was the guidelines of Assignment 1 documented, but if the general gist was hello, then I could do that. My second paragraph mentioned I was a licensed real estate agent, had two teenagers, a dog, cat and husband. I wrote some platitude about being excited to learn about appraising. Now that's done, I can dust off my knees and get to work.

This Month's Grievances

We just had our Grievance Committee meeting. My broker-pal, Kaye thinks it is funny that I just totally geek out about the Realtor Code of Ethics and contract law. Well, who wouldn't? I may or may not have geeked out all the way to the meeting. Fortunately for both of us, Kaye was driving.

This month's cases were kind of lack luster. The 35-page case was submitted by a loan officer who was pissy that the buyers found a different loan officer. He blamed it on the selling agent--though he didn't really give us a reason why. He did manage to refer to everyone involved (in writing, no less) , as, "Morons." He provided a lot of paper (where he called people Morons). What it boiled down to was the dude couldn't do his job and it was the fault of everyone else. The Grievance Committee dismissed this case.

As a side note--and this just occurred to me--I actually think I met this guy once. If it is really the same guy, he was a pluperfect ass to me as well. But what are the odds there are two extraordinarily obnoxious loan officers with the name, Wendel Q. McGillicutty Jr. in the greater Phoenix metro area? Probably a different guy. Most likely. Maybe.

The other three cases were various levels of "he said, she said." Who is owed a commission because who did the work, kind of thing. None were memorable or had anything to exciting in them. Two of the cases went to the Grand Inquisitor Squad because they met the basic criteria to be advanced.

One of those remaining three cases had no proof of a transgression. We can't really do much with that. Pro tip: if you want to take the time to file an ethics complaint or an arbitration complaint, you might want to have at least one sentence of supporting document attached. Just filling out the form saying, "that agent owes me money," doesn't do it.

Grievance Time

It is that time again! Two cases (so far) for this week's Grievance Committee Meeting. I absolutely love this committee. The folks on it are professional and take their role seriously. We discuss lots of contract-thingys, which appeals to my contract-nerdiness. I learn so much from them!

All I have done at this point is print out the papers (35 pages) of claims. Though a small rain forest is in jeopardy when I have to read this stuff, it is the easiest way to handle doing my part. Normally, I would bring my laptop to the meeting and read everything off of that, but my laptop has a persnickety nature that I just don't feel like dealing with. I tried for the last two meetings but as I vainly attempted to follow along with the screen, I was left in the dust, looking like the cliche'd incompetent administrative assistant from some 1980's movie.

So far, I have only scanned both cases at this time. Of interest is both cases come from the same brokerage. In fact, in the nine months I have been on this committee, this brokerage seems have gotten called out a lot. To be fair, it is a rather large brokerage that has many agents, but honestly, it isn't THAT large. I keep thinking about the poor designated broker who has to go in front of the High Inquisitor Squad when his agents get called on the carpet. Perhaps at this point, he could just rent out an apartment onsite at the Association to spare him the travel on High Inquisitor Squad hearing days.

This is playing into my thinking, that maybe I don't want to be a designated broker of more than just me. Who has time to sit in High Inquisitor Squad hearings on a monthly basis?

The only other action I have taken about this month's meeting is to make sure Buckaroo has a ride home from school. I am sure I will get around to reading the 35 pages of he-said, she-said soon enough. If it is interesting enough and I can keep it anonymous enough, I hope to write about it.

Stay Safe East Mississippi

The Other Option

I am racking my brain, trying to figure out what life would have been life right at this moment if Marty had decided to take the job in Fort Myers. Right now, I am watching the sunrise from my office. Would I even have noticed the sun came up through the clouds, making pinks and gray hues in my family room and transforming my laundryroom into a magical shade of periwinkle? I think it is understood that I would have slept as little as I did last night, regardless of whether we were moving or not. I don't sleep well.

At any rate, it is a beautiful sunrise.

Make no mistake, I am somewhat disappointed we aren't moving too. I am ready for an adventure. I happened to believe (and kind of did all along) that this particular job wasn't the right adventure. However, Marty's entire job search encompassed so much mental energy last summer that very little else happened. It was a waiting game. I remember sitting at the Broker's luncheon, talking to a woman who wanted to make future plans with me. At that very moment, Marty was on an interview and I remember smiling and being noncommittal. This past week I reached out to her and yesterday I met her for tea. She's a delight.

Polly starts school this week. It is not exactly how she planned her semester to go, given classes started two weeks ago. Both kids unenrolled, as we were moving, right? Polly was able to get one of her two late start classes back. The other one she is on a waiting list for, but I am encouraging her to show up anyway. I am pretty darn sure she will never stop telling me how she should be in this class, but NO! She had to unenroll!

As if we didn't know.

And she isn't the only one with that mantra. Buckaroo thew that in my face (not Marty's, never Marty's face) yesterday about his class. Yep, we get it. He had to unenroll too. He is the more level-headed of my two and I happen to know he will get over it, as will his sister. Besides, the opportunity to sign up the Mesa Fire Fighter Cadet program showed up now that he has time and isn't encumbered by a school schedule. Isn't that better than sitting in a classroom toiling away at algebra?

If Marty had taken the job, today I would probably be meeting the handyman or roofer here for some round of work. I would probably have a "coming soon" sign in my yard and moving boxes in my garage. I would have been confirming the movers, to ensure they would be here in (gulp) three weeks. There would probably be a house hunting trip to Fort Myers scheduled for Marty and I next week--and call me superstitious, I don't want to be in an airplane next Wednesday. The dog would have a new owner. The cat would be traumatized because... never mind. The cat is traumatized in general. I would be figuring out how to say good bye to everyone and making promises with the Almighty so that I would have a chance to see my 82 year old father in six months. I would be avoiding videos from my brothers, who seemed to find all of the "python eating alligator" videos in existence lately and thought I should see them. I would be polishing off my resume and would have set up job search parameters in a few of the professional employment search Web sites. But most of all, I wouldn't be admiring the sunrise out the family room window this morning.

My Own Adventures

Once the, "Marty is interviewing" life stopped, we have managed to get back to normal. Granted, we have a lot less clutter in the home (the kids helped with some decluttering while I was in Michigan in anticipation for our upcoming move). It seems I had put my life on hold and hadn't realized it. Though I have been home since Tuesday night, I have been running like crazy.

This past week, I interviewed with a woman who wants to open a brokerage. She sought me out. I am not sure I am the best fit, and the more I think about it I just don't see this as win-win. However, I didn't say no. At least not yet. That said, she is looking at doing this at the beginning of 2020. I have given her some of my insight as a business owner. Perhaps if she is willing to incorporate some of my suggestions into her plan, I might be open to changing my mind. But right now I am pretty sure her vision doesn't work for me.

Plus, and I realize this is petty, but I like the name of my brokerage better than the name of her proposed brokerage. My brokerage is sorta an anagram of my kids' names. Plus, I like my brokerage name better. Did I mention that?

Oh yea, she is thinking about doing property management as part of her brokerage model. Ok, I need to stop right there. Her tender offer isn't sounding any better.

Yesterday I spoke with an appraiser about the state of the industry. You see, I am thinking about going to appraisal school. This has been on the bucket list for quite a while. However, I was waiting for Marty to get it together. The plan right now is to register for my first appraisal class soon. I am in no major hurry. It may take me six months of classes. Or, I may decide it isn't for me. I am pretty zen about it at the moment.

This appraisal guy is also looking to hire an assistant to work from home a few hours a week. I am super-over qualified--if you will, think of a chef applying for a hostess position. I am not sure I am terribly interested, but dang! What a way to get a behind the scenes education. Anyway, I sent him my over-qualified resume and said I would be interested in discussing further. What this might lead to, I don't know. Would I hire me if I were him? Probably not.

And finally, I am working on becoming a certified real estate instructor. This has also been on my bucket list for quite a while. More on this later. Like when I have something concrete to share. As of today, it is more like churning wet slurry. But there is an action plan in place.