It’s dangerous writing in a coffee shop, surrounded by game-playing teens and housewives – it tends to pigeon-hole my metaphors. My mind is over-run – I’m full of “myself” – and I thought that writing something down might purge some of the pressure. But I can’t seem to freely write like I used to, so I have to ride a tributary of observation until I can steer my vessel on the tumultuous rapids of my thoughts. The woman next to me has a heavily adorned bag – pink leather with fat silver rivets, a stark contrast to the utilitarian Ogio messenger bag that shepherds her computer. She drinks drip – hot enough to warrant a sleeve. I think she must be grading science papers.

I’m drinking a glass of 14 Hands Cabernet. I had a professor in college that used to tell us that she graded our papers in her bathtub with a bottle of red wine. Eventually the dried red drops on my Mythology paper would be her testimony. She was a “character” – a status I think is worthy of achieving. If you aren’t a “character” what are you? People are described by what they do (engineer, teacher, bus driver) – with the exception of “characters.” Characters have a personality that overpowers their limitations in a smothering embrace. Characters have to be a little jovial though – otherwise they become curmudgeons.

It’s hard to write when a glass of wine is your sand timer – the rate of descent is too uneven to develop a steady pace.

Starting to feel better. I became overwhelmed with the knowledge of the absence of God today. I could have said that I became overwhelmed with the knowledge of the presence of evil, but that makes it sound like an excerpt from “Twilight.” In the span of a couple of weeks I have run into a couple of people that weren’t evil, but the absence of God in their life was so complete that it felt as though my heart had had a run-in with a melon-baller. They were jovial in their ignorance, but their indifference to good created a storm in my soul. Quiet reverence is no match for a jovial indifference to God. A more active role is going to be necessary…

Two months between posts gives me a quiet confidence – like I’m shouting in an empty room.

There is a condition in sales that is a little like post-partum depression. Birthing a paycheck in real estate can take months, and in the case of some clients, sometimes years. Once the home is found or an offer is agreed upon, there is still 30-60 days of waiting, culminated in a paycheck that is spent as quickly as it cashed. Working so hard for such a quick labor brings on its own case of baby blues, and I seem to get a case with every closing. Closings have been frequent, so I guess I feel like I’ve just had quintuplets. When you have that many kids at once, people revel in the fact that everyone is healthy. Knowing that everyone is healthy doesn’t mean that everyone is happy. Happiness is best maintained at a measured pace, so I’m embracing the day and finding a rhythm.

This has been the best weekend I’ve had in a long time. In large part because I chose to put my cell phone aside and my computer down, fortunate  to have enough business that I could afford a couple of days for me and mine. As I’ve been telling my business partners, I’m a passionate person, so my fire burns long and hot. Once quenched though, it can take a long time to stoke. It’s nearly June, and this weekend aside, the amount of full days that I’ve taken off can be counted on one hand. After an especially busy week (last week) I lost my credit card and my wedding ring (separate incidents), which led me to believe that I either had a tumor that was affecting my short-term memory or I needed to take some time off. Taking time off meant completely blowing off some regular weekly meetings that I knew would only lead to more work.

That was a week ago today. I did have to work a little, but for the most part I put work aside. Kami and the kids returned from their trip to Montana on Thursday, so I’ve spent as much time as I could with them, mostly letting Selah enjoy her time outdoors on our newly mowed yard. Now I’m getting ready to show some condos to some out of state buyers, and I can say that my fire is lit again. I’ve excited to show them – excited to get to know good people. I’ll be of better service to them because of it, so I’m going to have to be better about taking the time to sharpen my axe.

I don’t think that anyone knows the degree of the writer’s block that I’ve been suffering from the last two years. It’s actually painful for me to try to write. It used to be that I could write a paragraph, re-read it, then second guess and edit elements of that paragraph. As my OCD has progressed, this became a sentence by sentence ordeal, until eventually I was second-guessing my thoughts before I could even get them on paper.

I was recently motivated to write a blog post for our real estate blog, and while the idea has been perc’ing for awhile, didn’t come into being until today. It’s not that the content is earth-shattering, nor even the writing that good -but that it’s WRITING. It went through several stages of edits, and while length is no indication of worth, it does show some amount of perseverance to me.

I wish I was kidding about this. Part of my inability to write has been because of a lack of time to do so, but largely it’s been because of pure inability. It means a lot to me that you all keep checking in – please continue to do so. We have a cute video of Selah that will be up soon. Until then, read the only thing I’ve written in a looonnnng time: Live Like You Were Selling.

I have to fight against the stereotypes of my industry every day. A client told me last night that with exception to myself, their experience with real estate agents forced them to equate us with used car salesmen. On the same day, another client told me that he had spoken to a homeowner that was trying to sell their home without an agent – the homeowner saying that when given the opportunity to list their homes in the past they ended up doing all of the work and the listing agent did little more than take their money.

I am confident that the agents that reinforce these stereotypes are a very small percentage. Still, merely saying so does little to fight these perceptions. If I was one of the “hardly working” agents, putting two new listings on the market would be exciting, but hardly stressful. I happen to be listing two properties this week, but with each property I’ve had to:

(1) Research comparable property sales to establish a range (within $10,000) for a list price that allows the sellers to get the most money in the least amount of time. There are several methods that agents can employ to secure this data – I try to use all of them, then compile the finer points of each. On any given property this can take me 2-4 hours.
(2) Prepare a unique listing presentation binder. This isn’t unique, but letting the client keep it is. Most realtors have a listing presentation binder that they take to every listing. Instead, I create a unique presentation for each client, since each client’s needs (and every client’s home) is different. 2-4 to complete.
(3) Schedule and pay for house cleaning.
(4) Schedule and pay for pre-inspection.
(5) Schedule and pay for listing photography.
(6) Compile photos, write ad copy, and submit to designer for professional design of property flyer.
(7) Facilitate other services, dependant on the client’s needs, such as moving, storage, carpet cleaning, or pest control services.
(8) Upload listing information to website, developing a dedicated page for each property.
(9) Prepare listing for various forms of paid print and internet marketing.

These are the broad strokes. I imagine that other agents torture themselves less over each listing, but I think that the fact that listings from The Pickett Street Property Team (my team) sell on average in 30 days and for 2% over list price is a consequence of agonizing over the details.

Still, it can be overwhelming. Worth it, but overwhelming. Two new listings on the market this week: a beautifully designed home in Everett and a breathtaking condo in Seattle. Check ‘em out.