We are moving in less than thirty days. So that must make me a mover and a shaker. Right? Well, it does according to this weeks prompt at Writing Room 101…(if you haven’t visited, you should).
We found out in January, so in reality we had a six-month lead-time. I also have a real estate license, and practiced for 6 years, so you would think all of this would be old hat for me, right? A piece of cake, right?
I can admit my faults and shortcomings; I can take responsibility for my mistakes. And lucky for you, I can share them, and with that share a laugh with all of you. Here are just a few..
I can fully admit that while I promised NOT to micromanage my agents (I was forbidden from representing myself by our relocation company), I did exactly that. Every step of the way, I have been on them ‘like white on rice’. To them, I am sorry. Sort of. Or what is it my son says…#sorrynotsorry.
I can also admit that while having ‘feedback’ is necessary, most of it consists of whiny dribble and is a waste of time. ‘The grass was brown.’ (in February, in the coldest winter we have had). Really people? That is the worst thing you could say? Move along. While I KNOW it is not to be taken personally, or as a direct criticism of ME, I still ranted and railed at every comment. ‘What do you mean the kitchen is too small? Do you know how many 8 year old boys I have fit in here at one time?! What is wrong with people? Don’t they know how to VISUALIZE?’
I can tell you that showing times are not meant to be a ‘ballpark’ and if you are not at my house between 1-3 like you said you would be, please keep moving or reschedule. By 315 it will be a hot mess of book bags, dog hair, dinner prep and probably a beer or two. You’re welcome to come in and have a drink, stay for dinner, but to judge my housekeeping at that point? Nope. Also if you are not out of my house by 3, I will be in my car stalking you from down the street with my two kids in the car asking for the millionth time ‘can we go home yet?’ and if you delay much longer we will just walk in on you. I can only take so much.
My timeless suggestion to sellers was to hide miscellaneous kitchen bits in the oven in the event of a last minute showing. This has backfired on me now that I am the seller at least a half a dozen times. Several bags of bread, bagels, a stack of papers and a bowl of fruit have all had near misses in my oven as I preheated days later, forgetting momentarily that I had a hidden stash in there. Maybe not so momentarily. Maybe until the smoke started billowing. In any case, I will never offer this advice again.
My car keys have been missing for three weeks now. I have several hiding places for junk, counter crap, and piles of papers. We are a pack rat family. I don’t know why, and I can’t seem to end it. If there is a twelve-step process or some sort of hypnotism I can do, please tell me. But in the meantime, I swept my car keys into a drawer/basket/pile/bag/box and I have not seen them in three weeks. My gut feeling now is that they will turn up at some point in the new house. There was a red metal paw on the key ring-red so they would be easier to find (HA!) and that I miss. It was a bottle opener too, very handy. Other than that, I cannot remember what other keys were on it and if I need them.
A note to those of you embarking on this journey as well: with the advent of social media and dozens of real estate syndication websites, don’t be surprised if your prized possessions ogled and the contents of your home treated as nothing more than a unit on Storage Wars. Within hours of my photos being posted and shared, I had an offer on my desk and my grandmother’s dining table. Neither of which were for sale, but it was good to know there is demand in case I didn’t get what I want for the house.
That is just the short list of things. Being a real estate agent hasn’t helped me one bit. The bottom line is, even when you think you know what to expect you don’t. When you think you can handle all they throw at you, you can’t. And when you think you are ready to pack it all up and close the door behind you, you aren’t.
When it comes to that day, I will be moving, and shaking.
Wish me luck.