The highs and lows of parenting and real estate.

Want to Trade Lives? Here’s What You’re in For.

Yet another example of how the Real Estate Beast is really just a selfish 12 year old girl who can sense when I have something other than her to pay attention to and retaliates by acting out, throwing a tantrum and generally making my life a living hell:

My sister is getting married tomorrow. My only sister. I, of course, am the matron of honor. Suffice it to say, this event has been occupying my attention for the last week and was my main focus for the schedule both today and tomorrow. We had the usual plans, mani/pedis at 10 AM, lunch and the mall for last minute beauty items after, and the rehearsal tonight at 5:30pm with the dinner following.

It should have been a fairly fun and relaxing day. I was really looking forward to it. It has actually been a pretty quiet week, work-wise, so I figured, What could go wrong?

Yeah. Well, this could, of course:

Yesterday I got a call from the short sale negotiator on one of my listings. The listing is set to go to trustee’s sale March 2nd, but we sent in a new offer last week. The negotiator informed me that if we didn’t send in the entire packet of necessary updated financial paperwork by Friday at 4pm Central standard time (which is 3pm our time) they would go through with the foreclosure.

Hrm. OK, small work hiccup to the fun pre-wedding day. Gotta get client to fax over paperwork first thing in the morning and then I should have time between lunch and picking up the kids from school to fax the packet over to stall the foreclosure.

My client agreed to have the paperwork to me first thing in the morning. I gave her my company’s efax number to send to as my home fax is a giant pile of donkey dung that sends faxes but can no longer receive them.

Today has thus far gone as such:

5:15 AM – Out of bed and headed to the gym for my daily utterly pointless bout with the treadmill and the latest episode of Grey’s Anatomy.

6:26 AM – Check my Blackberry while on the treadmill (yes, I know, I have an illness) to find four emails from a different short sale negotiator on a different listing.This negotiator was writing to tell me that after two and half weeks of waiting for the investor to review our offer, they had picked today to respond with a counter-offer. Which she needed a response to immediately. Like now. Or within 10 minutes, ish, approximately.

6:30-7:11 AM – Compose and send emails to my client and the buyer’s agent regarding second short sale negotiator’s counter-offer.

7:12 AM – Kids are lined up at the garage door waiting to get into the car to be taken to their various schools when the home fax begins to ring. Profanities exit my lips as I realize my client is trying to fax her giant packet of financial information to my pile of donkey crap home fax instead of the company efax line. My kids dutifully pretend they haven’t heard anything amiss (and to be fair, Jonas only thinks the words ‘stupid’ and ‘shut up’ are bad words, he’s completely fine with ‘shit’ and ‘goddamn it’).

7:14 AM – While waiting in the car at the bus stop for Gray to be picked up I text my client to find out what the hell is going on. Turns out she tried the efax number a dozen times and it wouldn’t go through so she was making a last ditch effort to send to my home fax. I break the bad news to her that there’s no way that’s going to work and I’ll have to come get the documents from her wherever she is. Which is, of course, in downtown Phoenix, 35 miles from where I live.

7:27 AM – Drop Bennett off at his school and drive home silently calculating how long each of the activities I still have to complete will take and wondering if I will make it to the 10 AM nail appointment in time.

7:38-8:35 AM – Wrestle Jonas to the ground and strip him naked force-ably (no time for logical reasoning with a 3 year old) to get the two of us into the shower and washed. Dry my hair and apply enough makeup to get through the day. Print all of the documents I already have that need to be sent in with the short sale packet in addition to a set of labels with the client’s name and loan number that need to be applied to each document in the packet.

8:45 AM – Drop Jonas off at Montessori.

8:45 – 9:18 AM – Drive the VA hospital in Phoenix to pick up my client’s documents. Pull into the parking lot and park on the curve where the ambulances pull up as instructed by my client. Proceed to ‘page’ my client, who’s a doctor and doesn’t get cell reception in the hospital, but can get messages via her pager. After I dial the number I realize I haven’t paged anyone since my boyfriend when I was 17 and I’m not sure I remember how to do it. When the call picks up, the recording says, ‘After the beep, enter your text message, BEEP,’ so I begin to type ‘Hey, I’m here in the parking lot,’ from the keyboard of my Blackberry when the phone gets all crazy with beeping and interrupts me. I realize it means I can only enter a number or 143 or 911 if I want to tell her I love her or am having an emergency. I wonder which is more appropriate in this circumstance and finally decide on my number. Of course I fat finger it and add in several additional numbers. I hope she will understand my message if only through telepathy.

9:18 – 9:22 AM – Get nervous I’m going to get rammed or yelled at by incoming Ambulances and decide instead to circle the hospital. While I’m circling, ponder whether I’ve been sucked into a wormhole and transported back to 1985 where the world’s cutting edge technology revolves around fax machines and pagers.

9:25 AM – My client comes out with the paperwork and apologizes for the fax issue, which is totally not her fault. I apologize for being too stupid to work a pager.

9:25 – 10 AM – Drive through the miraculously traffic-free freeways to Tempe to get to my mani/pedi appointment on time! WHEE!!

10 AM – Noon – Apply labels and organize short sale packet while toes are being painted. Field calls from my seller and the buyer’s agent on the other short sale that blew up this morning.

12 – 12:30 PM – Skip lunch with the girls, speed home with a pit stop through Chick-fil-a (thereby negating any positive health benefits I got from getting up at 5:15 AM to go to the gym in the first place).

12:30 – 1:30 PM – Eat, finish assembling the short sale packet, stand by the fax machine feeding the 45 page packet into the stupid godforsaken thing three pages at a time.

1:30 – 2:30 PM – Blog.

2:30 PM – Start the kid school pick ups.

Fun and relaxing pre-wedding day, right? Is it wrong to start drinking at 3:26 PM?





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