Thank you, THANK you for all the comments yesterday! Really. Sometimes I feel like I have access to this small private wishing well, that I have the ability to reach down into the water and draw up just what I need. I swear, that’s what you all are like. You do my heart (and legs) so much good.
Let me catch my breath. Whew.
I just got back from Orinda, from a meeting with my realtor/broker/whatever-the-hell-she-is.
She’s the type who knocks the breath out of you with her industry. She’s on two phone lines, yelling things at her two assistants, crunching your numbers, and still having a full conversation with you. As I am MultiTaskerExtraordinaire, I appreciate this, and it doesn’t freak me out. But her manner does, somehow. She makes me very, very nervous, and few people do that. She’s about five foot one, maybe a hundred and ten, no more than thirty-one years old, and smart as a whip. (Why are whips smart? Or is it that they DO smart? Hunh.)
Again, for the second time, I felt like running out of the room or diving out the nearest window when she was reviewing my personal finances. She’s not rude, she’s just honest. But by the end of the meeting, she had warmed up to me, I think. (I also think she was still pissed off at me for something that happened last month. I had seen her on a Thursday, at 4pm. At that meeting, we said we’d get together again in a month. The very next Thursday, I got a message from her at 4pm, wondering where I was. I got another more annoyed-sounding message an hour later. When I called and reminded her that I had met her the previous week, and that her assistant must have made a mistake on her calendar, she was nice enough, but I could tell she didn’t believe me. I hate it when I feel like someone wants an apology for something that I didn’t do wrong. I’ll apologize up and down for something I screwed up, or even MIGHT have screwed up, but that one was so not about me. I think I ended up apologizing anyway, blast it.) We parted today with her giving me an almost-real smile, and I’m happy to work with her. I know I could easily find someone with a better bedside manner, but this woman is legendary in her ability to create fiscal miracles with her thin, bejeweled hands. I need a goshdurn miracle.
And people, I think I’m looking for a place to buy. Really. Okay, I don’t actually believe that all the way myself, but she actually printed out listings for me, and there’s one that sings to me. I might take a wee drive to see it in a few minutes. Lord’a’mercy. I am SO scared, but SO happy that I even have any kind of ability to dream about this.
Dang. My mind is whirring too fast. Little sleep, but for a really good reason. And I have fresh, red tomatoes in my back yard. Adah is sleeping in the middle of the bean bag. Digit is drowsing in the sun on the kitchen table. My laundry is almost done. I have a red colander in the kitchen, and birthday fruitcake on top of the fridge for a snack later. Life is good. Mwah!
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