It’s the time of year when friends and families gather, laughter is shared and people rejoice. We all have our favorite traditions or ways to celebrate our various beliefs. Or maybe it’s just a time for you to celebrate life, family and friendship. For me the holidays are about celebrating the ones I love. Family are the people who make me happy, make me laugh. My friends are as much my family as anyone.
But what if all that wasn’t so? What if you found yourself alone. Without anyone to visit. Without family to laugh with. I have a client who spends his days alone. He is an 87 year old former Marine. He fought in the battle of Iwo Jima. And he doesn’t have anyone. We are trying to sell his property so he can move to a place where there are people to spend his days with. It’s all he wants. I have watched him shed tears over it.
I didn’t realize the situation was as severe as it is until a few days after Thanksgiving. I went to see him. Asked him how his holiday was. His response- fine. I asked if he went anywhere, only to find he spent the day alone. Just as he does every day. My heart was broken! If only I had known. I would have gladly brought my family to visit him. Brought him a proper dinner. Anything to make his day better.
Selling this property is all I want for Christmas this year! To help this man find happiness. To add people and friends to his life.
On Christmas Eve this year my mom and I are going to take this gentleman a proper dinner. Maybe a gift. And we will spend a little time with him. And I will hope that he finds joy.
This man is not alone. There are so many people out there who are lonely. If you can, go do something nice for them!
And if you know anyone looking for a private 2 acre lot in Barrington PLEASE call me!!!
Happy Holidays!
Monday, December 14, 2009
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Here's a story for you...
I'm on a home inspection, it's FREEZING cold out and these buyers just happened to choose THE most long winded inspector one could find. (No pun intended- you'll see)
So there we are, shivering. I'm repeating in my head "please hurry up, please hurry up" hoping to will him into shutting up soon. Really, I want these buyers to get all the information they need, but this is going beyond anything necessary. And my toes are one step away from falling off.
Deep into conversation over the grade near the foundation..... Mom let's out the loudest, ickiest fart one has ever heard! Seriously. I thought she needed a bathroom!
What do people do under such circumstances? Pretend it never happened. Minus the slight pause, wide eyes and moment of confusion. But thank God for Mr. Talks Alot! He hardly missed a beat..... and spared some of us the emabarrassment of what could have been.
So there we are, shivering. I'm repeating in my head "please hurry up, please hurry up" hoping to will him into shutting up soon. Really, I want these buyers to get all the information they need, but this is going beyond anything necessary. And my toes are one step away from falling off.
Deep into conversation over the grade near the foundation..... Mom let's out the loudest, ickiest fart one has ever heard! Seriously. I thought she needed a bathroom!
What do people do under such circumstances? Pretend it never happened. Minus the slight pause, wide eyes and moment of confusion. But thank God for Mr. Talks Alot! He hardly missed a beat..... and spared some of us the emabarrassment of what could have been.
Friday, December 11, 2009
The Power of Choice
Life tends to throw us all an unexpected blow. For some, those blows seem to come harder, faster. December in New Hampshire can pack it’s own punch. I’ve been knocked on my back a time or two. Just stepping out my front door this morning- fourteen degrees with wind chills that make you wonder if you were somehow transported to Antarctica while you slept- was nearly enough to send me running with my tail between my legs.
What is it that sets those who duck and run apart from those who raise their chin and brace for the next blow? Choice. Everything we do, every step we take is a choice. The difference between those who succeed and those who fail are the choices they make. The difference between the person who chooses to go in to the office early and stay late and the one who does not, is reflected in the success they receive. The person who tries, fails and gives up versus the one who fails and keeps trying is seen in the outcome.
Most important is the attitude we choose to take. Only we have the power to determine our reaction. We allow people to make us angry. We allow situations to make us feel inadequate or worry.
Life as a real estate agent can be an emotional roller coaster. A single day can bring joy, laughter, pain, fear, worry, frustration. Just this morning for instance, a buyer and her agent walked into my listing- mind you, it was very early and VERY cold. These two ladies proceeded to pick apart and laugh- out loud- at different aspects of the property. It was rude, disrespectful. And at this time and temperature one could easily flip the switch from kind to evil bitch. I, by no means, always make the best choices. We could spend a considerable amount of time and enjoy some serious laughter discussing my various poor choices. But we will save that for another day. Today, I chose to take the high road. To keep the smile on my face, my responses light and move happily on my way. I firmly believe our attitude determines what we get out of life. Being kind to the people around you will result, not only in others being kind to you, but will also bring to you a level of respect others might not enjoy.
I have listened to a lot of talk about the reason for different agent’s successes. Some things not so kind. I say, whatever may have happened in the process, you can’t deny them the fact that they didn’t get there without drive, determination and work. They made the choice to do what it took.
Life really is a choice. Attitude really is a choice.
With the right attitude you can do anything!
With the right attitude success, respect AND happiness can be yours!
…and believe me. I have to remind myself often too!
What is it that sets those who duck and run apart from those who raise their chin and brace for the next blow? Choice. Everything we do, every step we take is a choice. The difference between those who succeed and those who fail are the choices they make. The difference between the person who chooses to go in to the office early and stay late and the one who does not, is reflected in the success they receive. The person who tries, fails and gives up versus the one who fails and keeps trying is seen in the outcome.
Most important is the attitude we choose to take. Only we have the power to determine our reaction. We allow people to make us angry. We allow situations to make us feel inadequate or worry.
Life as a real estate agent can be an emotional roller coaster. A single day can bring joy, laughter, pain, fear, worry, frustration. Just this morning for instance, a buyer and her agent walked into my listing- mind you, it was very early and VERY cold. These two ladies proceeded to pick apart and laugh- out loud- at different aspects of the property. It was rude, disrespectful. And at this time and temperature one could easily flip the switch from kind to evil bitch. I, by no means, always make the best choices. We could spend a considerable amount of time and enjoy some serious laughter discussing my various poor choices. But we will save that for another day. Today, I chose to take the high road. To keep the smile on my face, my responses light and move happily on my way. I firmly believe our attitude determines what we get out of life. Being kind to the people around you will result, not only in others being kind to you, but will also bring to you a level of respect others might not enjoy.
I have listened to a lot of talk about the reason for different agent’s successes. Some things not so kind. I say, whatever may have happened in the process, you can’t deny them the fact that they didn’t get there without drive, determination and work. They made the choice to do what it took.
Life really is a choice. Attitude really is a choice.
With the right attitude you can do anything!
With the right attitude success, respect AND happiness can be yours!
…and believe me. I have to remind myself often too!
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
Friday, November 20, 2009
What Makes A Great Office
Some recent attempts at recruiting me from other offices has left me thinking. You know, that “is the grass greener” idea that can be hard to resist. Well, it didn’t take me more than a second to determine I’m not going anywhere. What I can offer my clients here at Century 21 Central Falls well, all else pales in comparison.
When searching for an agent, I have heard many people say they were referred by a friend or family member. Some satisified. Some very much not. Others have simply called an office they pass everyday and took whomever answered the phone. You could very well get a wonderful, hardworking person this way. But have you ever thought about who is behind them?
Let me start by saying, I know a lot of great agents who work for big offices, handle everything on their own and do a fantastic job for their clients. But when I went into this I wanted to be sure that I had backing, support. And I am damn lucky to have found it. You see, there are a few factors that make an office GREAT.
First, and most importantly, I am very lucky to have an amazing broker. Now, I told myself that in this blog I would refrain from using names or outing anyone. But sometimes rules are made to be broken and credit is due. So, Dave Paolini is not only extremely knowledgeable and hardworking, he is understanding, helpful and supportive. He always finds the time to be in the office, often well before we open and staying long after closing. His door is always open. He is always ready to lend an ear or a laugh. He truly cares about more than just his business. He cares about his agents and employees. Always making sure he is giving us the support we need whether through extra marketing, a new copier or keeping us informed on changes and events that effect our business. He is involved in the community and has an excellent reputation. He’s even been known to take our showings for us. And for sake of sounding like I’m sucking up I will stop there.
Having a good staff is also very important. We are very lucky to have Judy who not only answers the phones and keeps us in check, she lends us much help also. Checking our work, making sure we have the things we need and always being there to assist. Oh, and designing some very fine ads too.
And Nancy, dear Nancy, our office manager. You would be hard pressed to find a moment she isn’t working. And harder to find a time she isn’t ready and willing to help in any way she can. We all love Nancy.
Then there are the agents. Dave and Paula created an office that would have a sense of family and old fashioned values, and well, they have succeeded. You see, they could have done what so many others have. Filled the business with 30, 40, 50 agents. Created big numbers. But what is important here is quality. The result- a small group of people big on hard work, quality service and happy clients. We have a great team of good people and a friendly, fun environment that transcends to our clients and customers. Walk into our office on any given day and you are sure to be greeted with a smile and the sound of laughter. These people really have become an extended family and you feel it when you are here. Sure, we have had our disagreements, but like any family they are usually over as quickly as they start. All of this has left us leaders in our business.
So what makes a great office? A GREAT TEAM.
'Tis the season to give thanks. I am thankful for a GREAT OFFICE!!
When searching for an agent, I have heard many people say they were referred by a friend or family member. Some satisified. Some very much not. Others have simply called an office they pass everyday and took whomever answered the phone. You could very well get a wonderful, hardworking person this way. But have you ever thought about who is behind them?
Let me start by saying, I know a lot of great agents who work for big offices, handle everything on their own and do a fantastic job for their clients. But when I went into this I wanted to be sure that I had backing, support. And I am damn lucky to have found it. You see, there are a few factors that make an office GREAT.
First, and most importantly, I am very lucky to have an amazing broker. Now, I told myself that in this blog I would refrain from using names or outing anyone. But sometimes rules are made to be broken and credit is due. So, Dave Paolini is not only extremely knowledgeable and hardworking, he is understanding, helpful and supportive. He always finds the time to be in the office, often well before we open and staying long after closing. His door is always open. He is always ready to lend an ear or a laugh. He truly cares about more than just his business. He cares about his agents and employees. Always making sure he is giving us the support we need whether through extra marketing, a new copier or keeping us informed on changes and events that effect our business. He is involved in the community and has an excellent reputation. He’s even been known to take our showings for us. And for sake of sounding like I’m sucking up I will stop there.
Having a good staff is also very important. We are very lucky to have Judy who not only answers the phones and keeps us in check, she lends us much help also. Checking our work, making sure we have the things we need and always being there to assist. Oh, and designing some very fine ads too.
And Nancy, dear Nancy, our office manager. You would be hard pressed to find a moment she isn’t working. And harder to find a time she isn’t ready and willing to help in any way she can. We all love Nancy.
Then there are the agents. Dave and Paula created an office that would have a sense of family and old fashioned values, and well, they have succeeded. You see, they could have done what so many others have. Filled the business with 30, 40, 50 agents. Created big numbers. But what is important here is quality. The result- a small group of people big on hard work, quality service and happy clients. We have a great team of good people and a friendly, fun environment that transcends to our clients and customers. Walk into our office on any given day and you are sure to be greeted with a smile and the sound of laughter. These people really have become an extended family and you feel it when you are here. Sure, we have had our disagreements, but like any family they are usually over as quickly as they start. All of this has left us leaders in our business.
So what makes a great office? A GREAT TEAM.
'Tis the season to give thanks. I am thankful for a GREAT OFFICE!!
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Feedback
If you’ve ever tried to sell your home you know how much of an endeavor it can be. The struggle to keep everything neat and clean while still working, chasing kids and living your hectic life. The worry of having everything just right. The wonder of when will it sell and where will you go. I feel your pain.
Showings can be daunting and worrisome. Strangers wandering through your house. Wondering what they thought. Hoping for feedback. Feedback. Everyone wants feedback. As if whatever that one person says will bring some kind of revelation. As if they know, think, feel something that will shed some light that will change everything and make it sell faster.
Or is it just comfort in hearing something? Does knowing that they “like” it but don’t want it somehow feel ok?
I agree that sometimes feedback can be welcome and maybe even helpful. Confirming your thoughts, your agent’s advice. But forcing an agent to come up with something definitely is not. I always try to offer my thoughts to fellow agents and their sellers. The price is a bit too high- but they probably knew that. The fluorescent green den is painful- surely they knew that. But sometimes there isn’t anything more than “it’s a nice house. It just isn’t right for my clients”.
Here is a revelation. If you hear “the colors threw them off” or “they liked the house but felt the price is too high” -listen. This is what you have been asking for. This is what your agent has worked hard to get for you. It’s your job to correct what you can, when you can.
The most important aspect of selling, or buying for that matter, could be- Be Realistic. Yes, you can try to get whatever you want, but you must be willing to suffer the consequences. If you want to “test the market” and price high, you must be willing for it to take much longer to sell your home. If you want to enjoy your bold colors or just don’t want to repaint, you must be able to accept that some won’t be able to see past it. And you should understand that sometimes there just isn’t anything to say.
Showings can be daunting and worrisome. Strangers wandering through your house. Wondering what they thought. Hoping for feedback. Feedback. Everyone wants feedback. As if whatever that one person says will bring some kind of revelation. As if they know, think, feel something that will shed some light that will change everything and make it sell faster.
Or is it just comfort in hearing something? Does knowing that they “like” it but don’t want it somehow feel ok?
I agree that sometimes feedback can be welcome and maybe even helpful. Confirming your thoughts, your agent’s advice. But forcing an agent to come up with something definitely is not. I always try to offer my thoughts to fellow agents and their sellers. The price is a bit too high- but they probably knew that. The fluorescent green den is painful- surely they knew that. But sometimes there isn’t anything more than “it’s a nice house. It just isn’t right for my clients”.
Here is a revelation. If you hear “the colors threw them off” or “they liked the house but felt the price is too high” -listen. This is what you have been asking for. This is what your agent has worked hard to get for you. It’s your job to correct what you can, when you can.
The most important aspect of selling, or buying for that matter, could be- Be Realistic. Yes, you can try to get whatever you want, but you must be willing to suffer the consequences. If you want to “test the market” and price high, you must be willing for it to take much longer to sell your home. If you want to enjoy your bold colors or just don’t want to repaint, you must be able to accept that some won’t be able to see past it. And you should understand that sometimes there just isn’t anything to say.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
My Question Of The Day....
WHY am I such a SAP?
At 4:30 this morning I woke. Why? I don't NEED to be up, I thought. I tried to pretend I was sleeping. Hoping my brain and body would believe. To no avail. After about 15 minutes I gave in. Thank the heavens, or my husband really, that there was coffee in the pot.
With these early morning bouts of insomnia I generally follow the same routine. Curse myself and my noisy husband on my way to the kitchen, curse the dog for sleeping on the couch, gulp down half a cup of coffee, try to block out what 8pm will feel like and finally accept that I'm up.
Usually on these mornings though, I am full of energy and ready to take on the day. Next, I flip on the news. Yes, I'm a bit of a news junky. After a quick clean of the house I settle in front of my laptop with a fresh cup and get to work. While the anchors of WMUR fulfill my fix.
This morning, while in the midst of writing emails, planning some marketing and sending some status updates on my listings, came my first surge of emotion. The girl from Maine's first Amber Alert had been found. Safe and Sound. Wonderful! Oh, but I didn't stop there. No. The tear that entered my eye was also for this dad! Ya, seriously. Something had to cause him to feel so much emotion. All I can think is I hope he can find peace.
Back to work. Only to find surge number two. I met this gentleman last week. He actually contacted me from this blog, looking to buy a home. His first home. Our first showing, he fell in love. We were soon writing an offer. A dream for both buyer and REALTOR alike. One showing, one offer, close in 30 days. If only.
Go figure. Another offer. A higher offer. And a first time buyer still trying to to grasp the process and become comfortable with such an undertaking. He lost the condo. And I can't help but feel I wish there were more I could have done. Did I fail him? It's wonderful to help someone find a home. Home is where we are safe and comfortable. Missing one does not feel so good.
Shake it off Stephanie. We will find him something.
Next objective- blog. Plagued with writer's block, lack of creativity and a crazy schedule has left me feeling guilty and anxious for not posting something new. But what to write? For inspiration, reading over some previous posts seemed liked a good idea. That is what has brought us here. Emotions blazing from sadness to joy, I picked up my pen and the first thing that came to mind is "WHY am I SUCH a sap?". Hand me a challenge and my back is strong. Show me someone else's and I melt.
My family laughs at me during movies as I sit with a blanket blocking my face so they can't see me cry. They know it's coming as you see the smiles on their faces start to spread. I really am a fool. I just hope it makes me a more understanding, BETTER REALTOR.
At 4:30 this morning I woke. Why? I don't NEED to be up, I thought. I tried to pretend I was sleeping. Hoping my brain and body would believe. To no avail. After about 15 minutes I gave in. Thank the heavens, or my husband really, that there was coffee in the pot.
With these early morning bouts of insomnia I generally follow the same routine. Curse myself and my noisy husband on my way to the kitchen, curse the dog for sleeping on the couch, gulp down half a cup of coffee, try to block out what 8pm will feel like and finally accept that I'm up.
Usually on these mornings though, I am full of energy and ready to take on the day. Next, I flip on the news. Yes, I'm a bit of a news junky. After a quick clean of the house I settle in front of my laptop with a fresh cup and get to work. While the anchors of WMUR fulfill my fix.
This morning, while in the midst of writing emails, planning some marketing and sending some status updates on my listings, came my first surge of emotion. The girl from Maine's first Amber Alert had been found. Safe and Sound. Wonderful! Oh, but I didn't stop there. No. The tear that entered my eye was also for this dad! Ya, seriously. Something had to cause him to feel so much emotion. All I can think is I hope he can find peace.
Back to work. Only to find surge number two. I met this gentleman last week. He actually contacted me from this blog, looking to buy a home. His first home. Our first showing, he fell in love. We were soon writing an offer. A dream for both buyer and REALTOR alike. One showing, one offer, close in 30 days. If only.
Go figure. Another offer. A higher offer. And a first time buyer still trying to to grasp the process and become comfortable with such an undertaking. He lost the condo. And I can't help but feel I wish there were more I could have done. Did I fail him? It's wonderful to help someone find a home. Home is where we are safe and comfortable. Missing one does not feel so good.
Shake it off Stephanie. We will find him something.
Next objective- blog. Plagued with writer's block, lack of creativity and a crazy schedule has left me feeling guilty and anxious for not posting something new. But what to write? For inspiration, reading over some previous posts seemed liked a good idea. That is what has brought us here. Emotions blazing from sadness to joy, I picked up my pen and the first thing that came to mind is "WHY am I SUCH a sap?". Hand me a challenge and my back is strong. Show me someone else's and I melt.
My family laughs at me during movies as I sit with a blanket blocking my face so they can't see me cry. They know it's coming as you see the smiles on their faces start to spread. I really am a fool. I just hope it makes me a more understanding, BETTER REALTOR.
Monday, November 9, 2009
For The Love Of Portsmouth
I have this great new listing!
22 Mangrove Street
Portsmouth, NH
A charming, stylish Bungalow. It has an antique yet modern feel. Great floor plan, clean, solid. Everything has been done! It kind of lends that 1930's Hollywood style I love. And the best part, fabulous sellers! They have done so much to this house, including having it professionally cleaned and landscaped prior to listing.
Since moving out of Portsmouth six years ago, I haven't spent nearly enough time there. It's such a great little city. I miss it terribly. Since listing this one I'm glad to have had the chance to be there more.
As I ventured to city hall to get the tax card I came to a realization. While I have been away, many MORE people have moved in. The streets seemed to bustle a bit more. New shops and restaurants have popped up. It's amazing how that little Dover Point bridge seems like such a big road block. And it goes both ways. When you are in Dover, you tend to stay in Dover. When you are in Portsmouth, you tend to stay in Portsmouth. Well not for this girl. Not any more. I love both little cities. And I want to enjoy it all.
Bring me your Portsmouth listings! :)
The End Of Short Sale Hell
This one anyway.
It finally happened! At day 129 we CLOSED!
At day 99 I thought I would run screaming from any buyer or seller who uttered the words "short sale". As with most things that cause me grief, once they are over they don't seem so bad. I look back on it all and know that I would do it all again.
I had some great adventures with this buyer and I gained a friend in the process. Over the course of more than a year we looked at MANY homes together and have gathered many tales.
At the closing table Friday we recounted some of those stories. My favorite was one I have referred to previously. The only time I have run from a house screaming!
It was an old, empty house in Newmarket. Built in the 1800's. With all the quirks and features you might expect from a house of that era. We entered through the back into the kitchen. And a strange kitchen it was. A large open room with a stove that stuck out like a sore thumb. And nothing else. Oh, except for the closet. Yes, the closet with a toilet in it. Just a toilet.
I was having great fun telling my buyer just why I was not going to let her buy this house. Pointing out the stand up shower that graced the once dining room off the kitchen, the upstairs hall with floors like a fun house. Teasing about the piano that would start playing on it's own at any moment. We really were having great fun!
Even after all the laughter and jokes of ghosts and goblins, we ventured to the dark creepy basement. With an old field stone foundation, dirt floors and NO light, I exclaimed "This is where the bodies are buried!". And just at that moment, from somewhere in a deep, dark corner that appeared to have a giant hole dug into the floor, came a sound.... A growl reminiscent of something Stephen King would conjure.
I wish I could have seen her face as she turned to me and screamed "GET THE ______ OUT!" and proceeded to nearly run me over. She didn't have to tell me twice. As a matter of fact, she didn't need to tell me at all as I took the stairs two at a time and headed straight for the exit.
By the time we got out we were both laughing hysterically, but neither of us were interested in anything other than locking that door and getting the hell out of there. I can only imagine how absolutely uproarious it would have been for the neighbors to see us screaming out of there.
I didn't realize until the closing table that from there we went to the first showing on what would become the dreaded short sale! Maybe the previous event caused her to decide she had had enough.
Whatever it was, whatever happened along the way, I had a great time! And I would definately do it all again!
It finally happened! At day 129 we CLOSED!
At day 99 I thought I would run screaming from any buyer or seller who uttered the words "short sale". As with most things that cause me grief, once they are over they don't seem so bad. I look back on it all and know that I would do it all again.
I had some great adventures with this buyer and I gained a friend in the process. Over the course of more than a year we looked at MANY homes together and have gathered many tales.
At the closing table Friday we recounted some of those stories. My favorite was one I have referred to previously. The only time I have run from a house screaming!
It was an old, empty house in Newmarket. Built in the 1800's. With all the quirks and features you might expect from a house of that era. We entered through the back into the kitchen. And a strange kitchen it was. A large open room with a stove that stuck out like a sore thumb. And nothing else. Oh, except for the closet. Yes, the closet with a toilet in it. Just a toilet.
I was having great fun telling my buyer just why I was not going to let her buy this house. Pointing out the stand up shower that graced the once dining room off the kitchen, the upstairs hall with floors like a fun house. Teasing about the piano that would start playing on it's own at any moment. We really were having great fun!
Even after all the laughter and jokes of ghosts and goblins, we ventured to the dark creepy basement. With an old field stone foundation, dirt floors and NO light, I exclaimed "This is where the bodies are buried!". And just at that moment, from somewhere in a deep, dark corner that appeared to have a giant hole dug into the floor, came a sound.... A growl reminiscent of something Stephen King would conjure.
I wish I could have seen her face as she turned to me and screamed "GET THE ______ OUT!" and proceeded to nearly run me over. She didn't have to tell me twice. As a matter of fact, she didn't need to tell me at all as I took the stairs two at a time and headed straight for the exit.
By the time we got out we were both laughing hysterically, but neither of us were interested in anything other than locking that door and getting the hell out of there. I can only imagine how absolutely uproarious it would have been for the neighbors to see us screaming out of there.
I didn't realize until the closing table that from there we went to the first showing on what would become the dreaded short sale! Maybe the previous event caused her to decide she had had enough.
Whatever it was, whatever happened along the way, I had a great time! And I would definately do it all again!
Thursday, October 22, 2009
It Wasn't A Bad Day After All
Yesterday was just one of those days. Drama after drama, fight after fight. At one point I sat in my car alone and screamed, in desperate hope of relieving some of the stress that had built up over the past week. I was drained. I had no fight left in me. It was just a bad day.
I wanted nothing more than to get home, curl up with my family and just be happy. And that is just what I did.... finally. At about 7:30.
Just as some of that frustration started to fade, a blow came. A crushing, fearful, sad, horrifying blow.
It unfolded almost in slow motion. At first you don't believe it can be true. You search for facts. Try desperately to pray, to will it away. But there was no taking it back. My sons friend had been struck and killed by a car. A 16 year old boy. Riding his bike with a friend to visit another. Just boys. Out enjoying their youth. Simple. Honest.
To watch the pain strike my son was awful. To know that nothing I said or did could take it back or even make it better. It's a helplessness that a mother never wants to feel.
No matter what drama I had to deal with. All the fight, builder drama, dealing with a potentially unethical agent, people who hurt and frustrate. It wasn't so bad after all. My family was home when I got there. My kids were in their beds when I went to wake them this morning. They are safe. They are healthy. And they are with me. We are together.
It wasn't such a bad day after all.
I wanted nothing more than to get home, curl up with my family and just be happy. And that is just what I did.... finally. At about 7:30.
Just as some of that frustration started to fade, a blow came. A crushing, fearful, sad, horrifying blow.
It unfolded almost in slow motion. At first you don't believe it can be true. You search for facts. Try desperately to pray, to will it away. But there was no taking it back. My sons friend had been struck and killed by a car. A 16 year old boy. Riding his bike with a friend to visit another. Just boys. Out enjoying their youth. Simple. Honest.
To watch the pain strike my son was awful. To know that nothing I said or did could take it back or even make it better. It's a helplessness that a mother never wants to feel.
No matter what drama I had to deal with. All the fight, builder drama, dealing with a potentially unethical agent, people who hurt and frustrate. It wasn't so bad after all. My family was home when I got there. My kids were in their beds when I went to wake them this morning. They are safe. They are healthy. And they are with me. We are together.
It wasn't such a bad day after all.
Monday, October 19, 2009
The Dreaded Handshake
Who knew when entering this business I would run into so many conflicts! Of will, desire, hygiene. The latter clearly stands at the forefront in the wake of this Swine Flu epidemic.
Now I’m a people person. I love to meet new people! I enjoy conversations with strangers. I’ve even been known to lunch alone just for the opportunity to meet someone new. As a girl I thought life in a salon would be an excellent way to achieve such things. In true Stephanie fashion I went gung-ho into cosmetology school. Ambition blazing. Ready to take on the world of hair and make-up.
Classes were everything I’d hoped they would be. I was knee deep in taking notes and studying. And loving every minute of it. Soon I was ready for step 2- Practice. I excitedly pulled out my fake head with all that hair, clamped her down in front of the mirror and went to town. I cut and colored, braided and styled. And I enjoyed it. It was entertaining work.
Then came step 3- Real People. Real brave people might I add. Never have I been compelled to allow a student in training come anywhere near my head with scissors and a bottle of color. Something sure to never change either! But I digress.
Real people, with real hair, real personalities, real bad breath. I’ll never forget the first person to sit in my chair. The anticipation and excitement. The fear. He was nice enough I suppose. Once you got past the sheer size and smell of him. Or the fact that I didn’t know where the hair on his neck stopped and back started. But that didn’t matter. Nope. Because his next request was that I proceed to shave that back. Dear Lord, are you kidding me? But it didn’t stop there. No, it did not. This guy had eye brows the size of a small dog and, you guessed it, I was about to reign those suckers in too. With a shutter I leaned in and took care of business. After all, it was almost over. Or so I thought. You see, men with hairy backs and bushy eye brows often have super hairy ears too.
So, my first was one for the record books. It had to get better from here. Right? What did I know! The woman who would be my next client not only proceeded to moan and tell me how wonderful my touch was as I washed her hair, she asked me for my phone number! Oh, but only after “accidently” rubbing her face against my chest.
So I did what anyone would, hid in the clinic room with my dummy for days while trying desperately to block out the previous day’s events. Ah, but such things can only last so long. I had a couple of really good weeks, put out some really great cuts and colors. It wasn’t ability that I lacked. It was will…. And courage. And it was the next that finally broke the camel’s back- or mine.
She was a nice girl of about 14. She came in with her mother and 2 siblings. All in need of cuts. I didn’t yet know they purposely came in at the end of the night, when it was slow. Nope. Not until I got the cape around her neck and with the first swipe of my comb found her head riddled, infested with lice! Oh, yes, they knew. And wanted someone else to take care of it.
Well, that was that. I realized that despite how much I like people, I don’t always like touching them. I packed my stuff, threw it in a closet and never looked back. Except for the occasional friend or family member who begs for a moment of my time. I never would have made it through the drama and gossip of salon life, but as I've said so many times "What did I know?". Some things change so drastically and some things never do.
This brings us to my current dilemma- The Handshake. Who started this tradition of hand to hand greeting? Had they ever seen what some people do with those hands?! I gladly greet my friends, new and old, with a hug. I have excellent taste in friends! But to slap some strangers hand in my own, I must admit, is not always a pleasant experience. Have you ever been in a public restroom?
Well, it turns out, everyone you meet in real estate wants to shake your hand. Or at least feels it the “polite” thing to do. And they don’t stop with the greeting. No. It must be done on departure as well. It took a little time, a few side steps for some particularly scary individuals, but I got used to it.
Then came H1N1- The Swine Flu.
At first I found it amusing. Made jokes of the masks and pandemonium. I mean come on, The SWINE Flu? Well, buddy, how things are changing. Who can go a day without hearing H1N1 this and Swine Flu that? Now, every time I see that out stretched hand I have instant visions of hacking and coughing, masks, hospitals (And admittedly the occasional vision of growing a little swirly tail and snorting when I laugh- but that’s mostly payback for the jokes made)
And so my dilemma continues. With each showing, each out stretched hand. My solution? LOTS of hand sanitizer, soap and water and occasionally the inventive avoidance. So if I fail to shake your hand, please don’t take it personally. It’s just my fear of the little swirly tail.
Now I’m a people person. I love to meet new people! I enjoy conversations with strangers. I’ve even been known to lunch alone just for the opportunity to meet someone new. As a girl I thought life in a salon would be an excellent way to achieve such things. In true Stephanie fashion I went gung-ho into cosmetology school. Ambition blazing. Ready to take on the world of hair and make-up.
Classes were everything I’d hoped they would be. I was knee deep in taking notes and studying. And loving every minute of it. Soon I was ready for step 2- Practice. I excitedly pulled out my fake head with all that hair, clamped her down in front of the mirror and went to town. I cut and colored, braided and styled. And I enjoyed it. It was entertaining work.
Then came step 3- Real People. Real brave people might I add. Never have I been compelled to allow a student in training come anywhere near my head with scissors and a bottle of color. Something sure to never change either! But I digress.
Real people, with real hair, real personalities, real bad breath. I’ll never forget the first person to sit in my chair. The anticipation and excitement. The fear. He was nice enough I suppose. Once you got past the sheer size and smell of him. Or the fact that I didn’t know where the hair on his neck stopped and back started. But that didn’t matter. Nope. Because his next request was that I proceed to shave that back. Dear Lord, are you kidding me? But it didn’t stop there. No, it did not. This guy had eye brows the size of a small dog and, you guessed it, I was about to reign those suckers in too. With a shutter I leaned in and took care of business. After all, it was almost over. Or so I thought. You see, men with hairy backs and bushy eye brows often have super hairy ears too.
So, my first was one for the record books. It had to get better from here. Right? What did I know! The woman who would be my next client not only proceeded to moan and tell me how wonderful my touch was as I washed her hair, she asked me for my phone number! Oh, but only after “accidently” rubbing her face against my chest.
So I did what anyone would, hid in the clinic room with my dummy for days while trying desperately to block out the previous day’s events. Ah, but such things can only last so long. I had a couple of really good weeks, put out some really great cuts and colors. It wasn’t ability that I lacked. It was will…. And courage. And it was the next that finally broke the camel’s back- or mine.
She was a nice girl of about 14. She came in with her mother and 2 siblings. All in need of cuts. I didn’t yet know they purposely came in at the end of the night, when it was slow. Nope. Not until I got the cape around her neck and with the first swipe of my comb found her head riddled, infested with lice! Oh, yes, they knew. And wanted someone else to take care of it.
Well, that was that. I realized that despite how much I like people, I don’t always like touching them. I packed my stuff, threw it in a closet and never looked back. Except for the occasional friend or family member who begs for a moment of my time. I never would have made it through the drama and gossip of salon life, but as I've said so many times "What did I know?". Some things change so drastically and some things never do.
This brings us to my current dilemma- The Handshake. Who started this tradition of hand to hand greeting? Had they ever seen what some people do with those hands?! I gladly greet my friends, new and old, with a hug. I have excellent taste in friends! But to slap some strangers hand in my own, I must admit, is not always a pleasant experience. Have you ever been in a public restroom?
Well, it turns out, everyone you meet in real estate wants to shake your hand. Or at least feels it the “polite” thing to do. And they don’t stop with the greeting. No. It must be done on departure as well. It took a little time, a few side steps for some particularly scary individuals, but I got used to it.
Then came H1N1- The Swine Flu.
At first I found it amusing. Made jokes of the masks and pandemonium. I mean come on, The SWINE Flu? Well, buddy, how things are changing. Who can go a day without hearing H1N1 this and Swine Flu that? Now, every time I see that out stretched hand I have instant visions of hacking and coughing, masks, hospitals (And admittedly the occasional vision of growing a little swirly tail and snorting when I laugh- but that’s mostly payback for the jokes made)
And so my dilemma continues. With each showing, each out stretched hand. My solution? LOTS of hand sanitizer, soap and water and occasionally the inventive avoidance. So if I fail to shake your hand, please don’t take it personally. It’s just my fear of the little swirly tail.
My Weakness For Children
It’s no secret. I have a weakness for children. My kids, your kids, stranger’s kids. It makes no difference. Nothing pains me more than hurt children and those in need. Despite my desire to personally rescue each and every one of them, I am in no way physically, financially or even emotionally capable of doing such things. And yes, it took a considerable amount of time and consult to realize the truth in this.
But, determined as I am in my endeavor of making a difference, dying with a purpose beyond surviving the daily grind, I have found a way to help. Many actually, but today I will focus on this one.
Keeping kids warm!
Yup, providing hats, mittens, jackets, boots to kids who might not otherwise have adequate examples. The idea of a child with cold, wet feet and frozen fingers is one that tears at my soul and hastens my breath. So here is what I have done. I’ve teamed up with the local DCYF to provide local foster children with the items they need to stay warm this winter!
For the month of November I will have a tree in my office loaded with ornaments. Each holds the first name and sizes of a child who needs your help. Our help. Stop by to pick up your child’s information and make a difference in the life of a needy child!
Century 21 Central Falls Realty
Now, I know times are tough for most. We’ve all suffered and sacrificed these past few years and we simply can’t do all that we might like. Buying your own children’s jackets and boots can be a lofty endeavor. We’ll take whatever you can offer. Be it a single hat or mittens, not to worry. Every bit helps. Simply drop what you can in the box and I will match each item with a child.
These kids have already suffered so much. Live without love and stability. Don’t get to feel the strength and protection of family. Let’s at least keep them warm!
And no need to wait ‘til November. If you have something now bring it by! I’d like to formally thank everyone who helps. So if I’m not in, leave me a note or send me an email telling me you stopped by.
But, determined as I am in my endeavor of making a difference, dying with a purpose beyond surviving the daily grind, I have found a way to help. Many actually, but today I will focus on this one.
Keeping kids warm!
Yup, providing hats, mittens, jackets, boots to kids who might not otherwise have adequate examples. The idea of a child with cold, wet feet and frozen fingers is one that tears at my soul and hastens my breath. So here is what I have done. I’ve teamed up with the local DCYF to provide local foster children with the items they need to stay warm this winter!
For the month of November I will have a tree in my office loaded with ornaments. Each holds the first name and sizes of a child who needs your help. Our help. Stop by to pick up your child’s information and make a difference in the life of a needy child!
Century 21 Central Falls Realty
242 Central Avenue
Dover, NH
Or call me to pick up what you have
603.502.0154
Now, I know times are tough for most. We’ve all suffered and sacrificed these past few years and we simply can’t do all that we might like. Buying your own children’s jackets and boots can be a lofty endeavor. We’ll take whatever you can offer. Be it a single hat or mittens, not to worry. Every bit helps. Simply drop what you can in the box and I will match each item with a child.
These kids have already suffered so much. Live without love and stability. Don’t get to feel the strength and protection of family. Let’s at least keep them warm!
And no need to wait ‘til November. If you have something now bring it by! I’d like to formally thank everyone who helps. So if I’m not in, leave me a note or send me an email telling me you stopped by.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Day 99
It’s Day 99
NINETY NINE days of this madness called “Short Sale”. And still no closing in sight. There isn’t a single thing I can do at this point but wait…. And continue to talk my buyer down from the ledge she is about to jump off.
Oh, we did everything right. Asked all the right questions (and got the answers we wanted to hear- only to find they were incorrect!), tried to get the listing agent to use a mediator, stayed on top of everything and everyone. I’ve done my job and more, to no avail.
When did this buyer write her offer then? July 1st. Imagine that. You are finally buying your first place. Summer is in full swing. You begin thinking colors. Planning where you will put the Maltese Arm Chair, which drawer the silverware will go in. Only to have your emotions toyed with. To wait, day after day, moment after long, slow moment. Emailing your agent, hoping, praying that in some rare show of incompetence she will have forgotten to tell you the closing is scheduled. There really is an end in sight.
This is my nightmare. I agonize over the thought of not being able to fix this. I lose sleep over the idea of my buyer wondering, worrying, waiting.
Now, I know what you are thinking. Of course you are miserable over this Stephanie. You don’t get paid until it closes. Sure, I like electricity and cable as well as the next. However, that is certainly not my main reason for concern. As with most, this buyer has become a friend. Not only is it my job to take care of her, it is now also my personal duty. Every bit of worry and frustration is now mine as well. Every day that goes by, my frustration grows with hers.
Yes, I warned her this could happen. I told her of the horror stories of three, four, five months of waiting. It doesn’t do much in the way of making it less frustrating.
The moral of this story- No matter how experienced, no matter how much you try to do, sometimes there just isn’t anything you can do. And here I sit….. Suffering Short Sale Hell.
Here are a few of many Short Sale tips:
-Be SURE the listing agent is experienced in the short sale process. Although easier said than done! Also be sure they are motivated…..
-Have a title company do an initial search on the property to determine any and all liens attached to the property.
-Expect to buy the property as is.
-Don’t write an offer on a short sale property unless you are extremely patient and without any time frame requirements!
Yup, I wrote this a few days ago. It was not a fun one to write. It tooks days to finish. They all can't be winners I guess. ;)
NINETY NINE days of this madness called “Short Sale”. And still no closing in sight. There isn’t a single thing I can do at this point but wait…. And continue to talk my buyer down from the ledge she is about to jump off.
Oh, we did everything right. Asked all the right questions (and got the answers we wanted to hear- only to find they were incorrect!), tried to get the listing agent to use a mediator, stayed on top of everything and everyone. I’ve done my job and more, to no avail.
When did this buyer write her offer then? July 1st. Imagine that. You are finally buying your first place. Summer is in full swing. You begin thinking colors. Planning where you will put the Maltese Arm Chair, which drawer the silverware will go in. Only to have your emotions toyed with. To wait, day after day, moment after long, slow moment. Emailing your agent, hoping, praying that in some rare show of incompetence she will have forgotten to tell you the closing is scheduled. There really is an end in sight.
This is my nightmare. I agonize over the thought of not being able to fix this. I lose sleep over the idea of my buyer wondering, worrying, waiting.
Now, I know what you are thinking. Of course you are miserable over this Stephanie. You don’t get paid until it closes. Sure, I like electricity and cable as well as the next. However, that is certainly not my main reason for concern. As with most, this buyer has become a friend. Not only is it my job to take care of her, it is now also my personal duty. Every bit of worry and frustration is now mine as well. Every day that goes by, my frustration grows with hers.
Yes, I warned her this could happen. I told her of the horror stories of three, four, five months of waiting. It doesn’t do much in the way of making it less frustrating.
The moral of this story- No matter how experienced, no matter how much you try to do, sometimes there just isn’t anything you can do. And here I sit….. Suffering Short Sale Hell.
Here are a few of many Short Sale tips:
-Be SURE the listing agent is experienced in the short sale process. Although easier said than done! Also be sure they are motivated…..
-Have a title company do an initial search on the property to determine any and all liens attached to the property.
-Expect to buy the property as is.
-Don’t write an offer on a short sale property unless you are extremely patient and without any time frame requirements!
Yup, I wrote this a few days ago. It was not a fun one to write. It tooks days to finish. They all can't be winners I guess. ;)
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Day Two
So, it’s day two of “A Day In The Life Of…” and I have to admit I spent some time last night wondering what the hell I just got myself in to. Typically I’m a private person. Not one to open myself up freely. It’s one of my battles with the business. Having everyone know who you are.
In my former life I could go to a restaurant or bar, have a few drinks. Laugh a little too loud. For those who know me, know it happens easily and often. Laughing is my favorite past time. My wild streak has gotten the better of me a time or two. It runs deep. Because of that, the first few years of my career I hid out. You see I had this idea that people in this business had to be prim and proper and perfect. Boy, was I about to get another lesson in life.
I soon became stressed and stuffy and wanted to take it all back. To go back to my old life. The one that was fun! To the Stephanie that laughed all the time and danced through her day. But it was too late. I had worked too hard. And there were too many people I needed to prove wrong. I could do this. If it broke my spirit and made me a cranky old woman, I would not hear “I told you so”. I would say it. Did I mention I’m stubborn?
Well, being me, that didn’t last long. I soon decided that I was going to have it my way. “Typical Stephanie” my husband would say. I wasn’t about to lose my free spirit OR everything I had worked for, cried for, fought for. Nope. I could have it all.
It didn’t happen overnight. As I said, I’m stubborn. The battle waged on. However, I soon started to see that others in my business were doing it too. I have to admit. I was a bit disappointed. I wanted to be the first. Did I also mention that my expectations are sometimes unrealistic? But here I am, nearly 5 years later and I think I’ve done it! I’ve fit the pieces of me together, lost a few of the less desirable and found a few I never knew were there. I’m weird and I’m determined. I’m sarcastic and I’m a little crazy. I’m often brutally honest yet understanding. I’ve decided that I’m not going to be everyone’s agent and I don’t want to be. Some people will like me and some will not. That’s ok. Best of all, I’ve learned that if I can’t make this fun for ME it isn’t worth it.
So bear with me people. This is going to be a bumpy, crazy ride. And I promise to go easy on the dramatic tales of my woes and won’t desperately try to continue to explain myself. I don’t know exactly what my plans are here yet. I guess we will find out together. In a world that can suck your creativity like a scene out of Twilight, I need an outlet. Writing, although I would never claim to be great at it, is my option. How I’ll ever find the time is still in question. I hope to not bore you.
In my former life I could go to a restaurant or bar, have a few drinks. Laugh a little too loud. For those who know me, know it happens easily and often. Laughing is my favorite past time. My wild streak has gotten the better of me a time or two. It runs deep. Because of that, the first few years of my career I hid out. You see I had this idea that people in this business had to be prim and proper and perfect. Boy, was I about to get another lesson in life.
I soon became stressed and stuffy and wanted to take it all back. To go back to my old life. The one that was fun! To the Stephanie that laughed all the time and danced through her day. But it was too late. I had worked too hard. And there were too many people I needed to prove wrong. I could do this. If it broke my spirit and made me a cranky old woman, I would not hear “I told you so”. I would say it. Did I mention I’m stubborn?
Well, being me, that didn’t last long. I soon decided that I was going to have it my way. “Typical Stephanie” my husband would say. I wasn’t about to lose my free spirit OR everything I had worked for, cried for, fought for. Nope. I could have it all.
It didn’t happen overnight. As I said, I’m stubborn. The battle waged on. However, I soon started to see that others in my business were doing it too. I have to admit. I was a bit disappointed. I wanted to be the first. Did I also mention that my expectations are sometimes unrealistic? But here I am, nearly 5 years later and I think I’ve done it! I’ve fit the pieces of me together, lost a few of the less desirable and found a few I never knew were there. I’m weird and I’m determined. I’m sarcastic and I’m a little crazy. I’m often brutally honest yet understanding. I’ve decided that I’m not going to be everyone’s agent and I don’t want to be. Some people will like me and some will not. That’s ok. Best of all, I’ve learned that if I can’t make this fun for ME it isn’t worth it.
So bear with me people. This is going to be a bumpy, crazy ride. And I promise to go easy on the dramatic tales of my woes and won’t desperately try to continue to explain myself. I don’t know exactly what my plans are here yet. I guess we will find out together. In a world that can suck your creativity like a scene out of Twilight, I need an outlet. Writing, although I would never claim to be great at it, is my option. How I’ll ever find the time is still in question. I hope to not bore you.
Monday, October 5, 2009
It's my debut!
No one told me what to expect when entering the world of real estate. Actually, I’m quite positive my friends and family thought I had finally gone mad! How was this free spirited, fun loving, personal trainer ever going to make it in business- with deadlines and contracts and RULES! I spent my days chatting, running, throwing weights around, cleaning, gardening. I knew nothing of pushing papers or the nine to five.
Well, the thought barely crossed my mind. You see, as with most things in my life, it all happened so fast. One day I’m reading an article about an upcoming real estate class and the next, I’m sitting in front of an instructor screaming “Read the deed, read the deed, read the deed”.
Now let me just take a moment to discuss the matter of “real estate licensing class”. This is where all you agents out there chuckle and roll your eyes. For those of you who haven’t had the pleasure, here’s how it goes. I’ll be brief. Ridiculous amounts of legal descriptions, technical terms, numbers and equations are thrust at you in a whirl wind of just a few weeks. You rush to the nearest testing center in hopes of not forgetting there are 43,560 square feet in an acre or that fee simple is an estate under which the owner is entitled to unrestricted powers to dispose of the property, and which can be left- Yes, my eyes glazed over at this point once or twice as well! You put on your ear muffs, scoot up to the computer, check and re-check your answers. Then you are spit out on the street with your score card in hand thinking- “Ok, now what?” Little do you know- YOU KNOW NOTHING!
That class might have crammed a lot of information into your over worked brain, but it certainly didn’t teach you what to do with it. It taught you nothing of where to find clients or what to do with them once you did! I know this doesn’t sound good for all those agents out there trying desperately to show their worth. Fighting the battle with buyers and sellers who think they don’t need them or pay them too much. Trust me people, you need that agent! And when you find a good one, hold tight.
So, back to me. I’m a dreamer. I think big. And this time would be no different. I sought out the best office close to home and with much determination and a good amount of hounding they agreed to let me join! For an office that was not taking inexperienced agents, ever- I think I did damn good.
Now, I was lucky to have one of New Hampshire’s top agents take a liking to me. I saddled up to a desk in her office and began to learn just how little I knew. Rule number one- Do as I say, not as I do. Wait a minute? Is this grade school all over again?
The next few months were a crushing blow to my ego and my bank account. We may pay little to get our foot in the door, but our education certainly doesn’t come cheap.
Needless to say, I’ve fought my way through a recession that killed the career of many an agent, learned many lessons, some the hard way, battled stereo types and finally gained a good understanding of just what it is that I do. And here I stand, shaking my head and laughing at it all- sometimes crying. I’m not going to lie. There have been days that have made me want to run for the hills and question my sanity. And there have been days that have brought happy tears to my eyes and people I will forever cherish. I even ran from a house screaming once!
As agents, we see so much! We enter your homes AND your lives. Sometimes we go quite unwillingly, but it’s always an adventure. What better way to survive life than to share it with others? I don’t know what the future will hold, but you are sure to be entertained.
Welcome to “A Day In The Life Of A New Hampshire Real Estate Agent”
Well, the thought barely crossed my mind. You see, as with most things in my life, it all happened so fast. One day I’m reading an article about an upcoming real estate class and the next, I’m sitting in front of an instructor screaming “Read the deed, read the deed, read the deed”.
Now let me just take a moment to discuss the matter of “real estate licensing class”. This is where all you agents out there chuckle and roll your eyes. For those of you who haven’t had the pleasure, here’s how it goes. I’ll be brief. Ridiculous amounts of legal descriptions, technical terms, numbers and equations are thrust at you in a whirl wind of just a few weeks. You rush to the nearest testing center in hopes of not forgetting there are 43,560 square feet in an acre or that fee simple is an estate under which the owner is entitled to unrestricted powers to dispose of the property, and which can be left- Yes, my eyes glazed over at this point once or twice as well! You put on your ear muffs, scoot up to the computer, check and re-check your answers. Then you are spit out on the street with your score card in hand thinking- “Ok, now what?” Little do you know- YOU KNOW NOTHING!
That class might have crammed a lot of information into your over worked brain, but it certainly didn’t teach you what to do with it. It taught you nothing of where to find clients or what to do with them once you did! I know this doesn’t sound good for all those agents out there trying desperately to show their worth. Fighting the battle with buyers and sellers who think they don’t need them or pay them too much. Trust me people, you need that agent! And when you find a good one, hold tight.
So, back to me. I’m a dreamer. I think big. And this time would be no different. I sought out the best office close to home and with much determination and a good amount of hounding they agreed to let me join! For an office that was not taking inexperienced agents, ever- I think I did damn good.
Now, I was lucky to have one of New Hampshire’s top agents take a liking to me. I saddled up to a desk in her office and began to learn just how little I knew. Rule number one- Do as I say, not as I do. Wait a minute? Is this grade school all over again?
The next few months were a crushing blow to my ego and my bank account. We may pay little to get our foot in the door, but our education certainly doesn’t come cheap.
Needless to say, I’ve fought my way through a recession that killed the career of many an agent, learned many lessons, some the hard way, battled stereo types and finally gained a good understanding of just what it is that I do. And here I stand, shaking my head and laughing at it all- sometimes crying. I’m not going to lie. There have been days that have made me want to run for the hills and question my sanity. And there have been days that have brought happy tears to my eyes and people I will forever cherish. I even ran from a house screaming once!
As agents, we see so much! We enter your homes AND your lives. Sometimes we go quite unwillingly, but it’s always an adventure. What better way to survive life than to share it with others? I don’t know what the future will hold, but you are sure to be entertained.
Welcome to “A Day In The Life Of A New Hampshire Real Estate Agent”
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