I just got off the phone with our real estate agent.
No, we're not selling the house we just bought - I'm done with real estate posts for now. Then again, maybe not. You see, she called because she's been trying to get me to become a real estate agent. She was impressed with my obsessive research (a lot of the times I knew more about the houses we looked at than she did. I am a world-class Googler!) and my compulsion to improve listing descriptions. I can't help it - it's the marketer in me.
Once, I told a seller's agent that while the house she was showing us was not for me, she should mention the attached two-car garage "which is a rarity in a 1930's colonial in this price range. And I would advise your clients to remove the brown drapes in the living room. We want light. Light is good!"
She looked at me like I was crazy. My agent, on the other hand, started her campaign to get me to work with her.
"Nah," I said. "I don't need the pressure."
"You can work as much or as little as you like. The money is good. Think about it."
I told my husband about it that night and we had a good laugh. I mean, I'm a suburban stay-at-home mom who is thisclose to buying a minivan because I think I want one. If I became a part-time real estate agent the logical next step in my Donna Reed transformation would be my purchase of a vacuum cleaner so that I can finally wear my pearls. You know, while I vacuum.
(The scary part? I've been eyeing the Dyson website. Send help.)
Anyways, where was I? Oh yes, the part where my husband and I laughed about me becoming a realtor, which we did until we saw what she earned for a few hours a week looking at houses with me. Then it wasn't funny - I could buy 50 Dysons with that kind of money.
When I told her that I wasn't ready to commit any time to this she told me that if I took a real estate class and helped her market some homes she would give me 25% of her commission on any homes we sold together. That's 12 Dysons right there. And I wouldn't even have to change out of my pyjamas because she's convinced I can do this from home.
People. It's starting to sound REALLY good.
Somebody alert the Fed, because this is not a good sign for the housing market.
My timing is awful when it comes to career-related things. When everybody was making buckets of money for playing foosball (ah, the sweet dot com days!) I decided that THAT was the perfect time to go back to school. The genius of my strategy became evident when I graduated in 2002, right smack in the middle of the Enron/Tyco/WorldCom/Adelphia business scandals that made putting an MBA on your resume almost as attractive as saying that you have head lice.
So if I enter the real estate field, even half-assedly, I'm afraid I may just throw the country into recession.
I promise to warn you if I ever decide to take one of those weekend real estate courses.