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.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
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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