Does Anybody Care Who is the Top Real Estate Agent?
I was out a little late last night doing my second job, which is swimming as a mermaid at the Dive Bar downtown Sacramento. You think that’s the same mermaid in the fish tank night after night, well, I’ve got news for you. Have you ever stood up on the bar and cupped your eyeballs against the fish tank to verify that? Ha, I didn’t think so. And besides, that’s not really my second job, that’s Myrl Jeffcoat in a wig, just ask her.
But whatever I was dreaming about last night, I woke up late this morning. The cats were sequestered and obviously fed because they were quiet. We recently had replaced all of the doors in our house, so with some of the doors closed, I can’t hear a thing from another room in my bedroom. Asteroids could be blasting through the ceiling and tearing holes through the living room floor, and I would sleep through it. Which, by the way, just when you thought we were in the clear and not about to encounter any asteroids in our lifetime, we find out there are millions more — more than 10 times as many as we originally estimated — of undiscovered asteroids speeding toward our two-car garages about to hit Earth at any time and squash us like the pinheads we are.
Whose fault is that? Obviously, it’s the Russians. I grew up in the 1950s and I know where to point the fingers of blame.
But I’m getting ahead of myself here. What I meant to talk about before I got so carried away is when I stumbled out of bed, rubbing my sorry eyes and realizing that for the first time in a week my jaw did not ache, although, I did leave the refrigerator door open after filling my water bottle at midnight, and it was open all night, even though it has a warning sound when left ajar, and this was the reason my husband elected to take this point in time to provide a lecture about energy costs and global warming and asking if my mother raised me in a barn, I spotted an email on my computer with a bunch of exclamation points in my inbox.
It stood out amidst the sea of morning emails like a sore thumb. It was titled: Hooray. From my transaction coordinator. My heart leaped a little bit, and I tuned out husband talking for a moment. The email was filled with heart-shaped words and uplifting praise. For just a moment, I allowed myself to feel a smattering of joy. It is possible? Could it be true? My eyes frantically searched the flowering language for the phrase I was so filled with mouth-watering anticipation to read.
It wasn’t there. This was NOT a short sale approval for a particular short sale in Natomas, for which we’ve been tirelessly fighting for forever and know from the bottom of my heart that one day it will happen.
Nope, wasn’t it. Darn, darn!
It was something else less expected. Something that has been happening once or twice a year for a little while now but is still very unexpected when it does occur.
I thought, what? Is Marilyn Goff on vacation? She’s not even in the top 3 agents for the month. Look, here’s #2 and #3. Yikes.
For the month of October 2013, Elizabeth Weintraub is the #1 real estate agent at Lyon Real Estate.