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What Is SassTown?

Real estate rebel, residential designer, believer, blogger currently residing in the Detroit metro area.

As the Mayor here, I have achieved an uncanny reputation for being right more than 92% of the time while raising 5 daughters, 1 son, a BA dog and a husband who adds to the daily drama.

I am also fondly known as Your Honor, crazy bitch, psycho mom, wily temptress & that damn Yankee.



 

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Entries in real estate (2)

Saturday
Aug082009

A Day In The Life....

Of a multi-tasking stay at home mom. To many of you this will feel oddly familiar since you've been there or it's where you're headed. Let me warn you it's a tedious account of my day last friday:

12:15 a.m. I slip into bed early knowing I need to be up at an ungodly time.
4:55 a.m.  Get up, get ready, have coffee, get dressed, put on make up since I know I may not have time later.
5:35 a.m.  Gather computer bag and book. Join husband in car and drive to ambulatory surgery center.
6:00 a.m.  Tell him to go check in, settle in with my stuff for a wait, dig out the insurance card for him.

6:30 a.m.  I remind him why I like to be on time, or a little behind, but never early. Because now we wait.They call him back to pre-op. I get to stay waiting room for now, yippee, so I fire up I-Photo and start editing pictures. There was a time I would have had to oversee everything from which vein they were choosing for the IV to what brand of tape they were using but I’ve decided to wean my family off it’s over reliance on me. 

7:15 a.m. They call me back to sit with him as he waits. I nose around his curtain area, watch his vital beeping, inspect his Normal Saline IV. We begin patient watching, guessing who is having which procedure. Joke with the various staff members who come in.

7:40 a.m. They take him back for his procedure. Why do men look so helpless laying on that cart in the ridiculous hospital gown.
7:41 a.m. Crack open that lap top and get back to some serious editing. I never look up once because I am behind on this task.


8:25 a.m. They call me back to post op. Raymondo is looking goofy, eating Lorna Dune cookies and sipping pineapple juice.
8:35 a.m. The Doctor comes to chat. All results were great and he can wait 5 years to come back. He tells him there is no need for him to be anal anymore. HaHa.

 

8:45 a.m. The nurse instructs me to pull the car around back. I get sidelined on the way by an awesome display of Revo sunglasses. If the Stiletto Mom is a shoe whore, I am a sunglass whore. Bet you didn’t know that about me. They can wait right? I shop around the optometry department a few minutes, then remember my mission. I promise the ladies I’ll be back because the retail outlets haven’t been carrying much if any Revo’s.


8:56 a.m. Drive around to ramp, out they come with Raymondo. We are on our way home and I don’t fool around. Non of this poking around driving. He feels great, wants to stop for
breakfast. Sorry, I got stuff to do. Just because you are giddy now doesn’t mean your normal. They told you no driving or making decisions for 24 hours.


9:05 a.m. Home again home again jiggity jig. Order Raymondo upstairs. No conference call until 4 pm or you’ll make a fool out of your self.
9:20 a.m. Take up a bagel, chicken noodle soup and lemonade to Raymondo who is upstairs in bed giggling.
9:30 a.m. Get girls stuff ready for the day. Make them a chore list. Throw a load of laundry in.
9:33 a.m. On computer, finish documents needed for a sweet young couple brave enough to buy a house in Michigan.
10:00 a.m. Freshen up make up, curl hair, brush teeth, pack bag with computer and papers I need, let Big Black Bastard out to go potty.
10:15 a.m Wake up girls, give instructions. Check on Raymondo, sleeping like a baby.
10:45 a.m. Leave house, stop and get gas for car which is on empty. Second tank this week after picking up #4 child from camp yesterday.Text kids in Chicago that their dad’s tests
went fine.
10:50 a.m. On my way to meeting at Starbucks. Talk to my dad in North Carolina.
11:10 a.m. Get settled in Starbucks, order a latte, grab a table and organize papers
11:15 a.m.  Conduct our business. Yes, they are still sure they want to take this plunge after being warned housing is still dropping in value. Everyone’s excited.
11:35 a.m. Drive, heading to office. Stop for car wash.
12:00 p.m. At office, organize and review all numbers, documents and data. Still waiting for last document. Call daughter at home, her dad is still sleeping like a baby.
1:30 p.m. Display my talents with my computer to co-workers, see, this is why you should buy a mac. Look at these graphics.
2:00 p.m. Phone call to listing agent. Fax all the pages to other agency. Head towards home. It’s a beautiful day out.
2:30 p.m. At grocery store. I’m starting to drag, I’m tired. Maybe I won’t have to go back out.

3:00 p.m. At home, salivating over the thought of a chilled glass of Pinot Grigio
3:35 p.m. In car against my will, taking daughter to friends house. She agrees not to call me to ask if she can spend the night, friends mother will drive her home.


3:50 p.m. In kitchen, tidying up. Get email from listing agency, missing documents for offer. Sh**!
4:15 p.m. Recreate documents again, send another email, spend 30 minutes syncing scan option back up on computer.


4:45 p.m. Glass of white wine is feeling fine. Start cooking dinner. Why am I having such a hard time focusing?


4:49 p.m. Meet mother of girl spending the night with child #6, she looks familiar. Repeat her name to myself 3 times so I can remember it. Text son back in Chicago. At least we have
a witty exchange, some anal humor at Raymondo’s expense.


5:15 p.m. Another email, phone call, I am tired. Tell girls to keep the noise down while Raymondo is on a conference call, he’s back in the saddle.


5:35 p.m. Back to finishing dinner. Call girls in to get washed up and set the table. They seem like nice girls, no picky eaters or special requests. Push touch up on clothes dryer.
6:05 p.m. Almost ready to eat. Get the laundry out of dryer before it is wrinkled beyond recognition.


6:40 p.m. Done eating, girls split outside after rinsing off their plates, cleaning up kitchen. Trash out, sweep up of all the minutia Big Black Bastard (120 pound dog with paws that
double as swiffers) has drug in from outside. I can’t stand the feeling of grit beneath my bare feet.


7:40 p.m. Phone call with couple buying house. Admire kitten the girls bring in a crate but convince them it can’t live here. I’s cute, but I hate cats.
8:00 p.m. Working on computer. Phone call with daughter in Chicago. She had a great day at work today. We make plans for vacation in 10 days.


8:40 p.m. Listen to Raymondo effusively enjoy watching “So You Think You Can Dance” finals. He says the same thing every time he sees this show.Make sure he’s rehydrating
himself with water. No you can’t have wine until these drugs are out of your system.
8:50 p.m. Get Raymondo ice cream with hot fudge on top. Announce that I am officially done catering to Raymondo for the day, he’s milked this thing for all it was worth.
9:30 p.m. Fold another load of laundry while looking for something on tv. Spray girls down with bug spray so they can go back out on the trampoline.
10:00 p.m. Read email and catch up on my blog reading. Raymondo announces he is worn out and going to bed.
10:20 p.m. 17 year old comes home from loafering around all day since it’s her only day off work after coming home from journalism camp. I non-chalantly sniff her, observe her
pupils and demeanor. Results inconclusive since she came home from a bonfire.


11:00 p.m. Supervise sleepover girls making milkshakes and God Bless them they actually clean up the mess before they go back out on the trampoline. I remind them it’s getting getting late and they convince me they can stay out longer since school is closing in on us. I relent.
11:40 p.m. Still reading on computer. 24 year old daughter comes home and fills me in on her Pastry Chef interview in Chicago that she thinks went really well. She staged at the  restaurant on Wednesday. She was really impressed with the place and the head chef, praying for a good job offer.
 

11:50 p.m. Laughing my self silly at some of her peers chatting on facebook. Why are your friends so funny I say. Come on share it with me so she does. Her friend is horrified that she to find out she has shared what they were chatting about with me. Now we invite him over for dinner Sunday to brainstorm a stage name for his fall back career as a male stripper in Windsor. He’s worried he may have failed his written exam for EMT. Everyone knows the Mayor is big on having a plan B.
12:10 a.m. Call the girls in from outside. You must come in, really. I am going to bed! Help them settle their sleeping arrangements. Admonish them to keep it quiet, no more soda, no running up and down the stairs, absolutely NO sneaking outside. I take my Ambien. Continue reading and responding to the blogosphere.


12:30 a.m. I review in my mind what kind of a day I have had. And how it’s not really atypical by all that much. When you don’t have a regular 9-5 job and the time boundaries that are normally erected seem not to exist. There is no end to the expectations I have of myself or that others have of me. I think I better jot this down while I’m in the mood.
12:45 a.m. Open up my writing application and start listing my day. #3 child is back downstairs making a snack. She says why are you still up crazy lady?


1:00 a.m. I’ll finish this tomorrow, I have been up 20 hours now and I’m sure this qualifies as foolishly blogging after Ambien. Go upstairs, beg girls to think about going to sleep. They are at least being quiet. Quickly get ready for bed.


1:10 a.m. Pull the covers up, get my pillow right, close my eyes and silently murmur my bedtime prayer. I can feel sleep clouding over me, turning off my thoughts.


1:12 a.m. Feel a hand caressing my back. Someone whispers, “I feel so much better now, like a new man.” My eyes pop open and I think, are you kidding me??? I murmur and scoot closer to the edge of our king sized bed. He keeps talking, asking questions and I don’t answer. Finally I say Shhhhhhhh! I whisper, very very softly, “if you get me awake now I will most certainly kill you.”





 

 

Friday
May222009

A New Kind Of Pain Relief

 

A revolutionary new program combining cutting edge medical therapy and american business ingenuity has been rolled out in south eastern Michigan. Many home owners are experiencing prolonged periods of depression, anxiety and suffering while their homes are on the market.Their reasons vary, but in states like Michigan much endurance is required to survive the home selling process. The actual closing is often unbearable, especially to those who have owned their homes less than 5 years.


To alleviate this situation a progressive Michigan broker has contracted with a local anesthesiology group to provide various levels of pain relief to his clients. “In our area so many hard working families who previously earned attractive salaries are being laid off. Selling their home in light of continuing unemployment or mandatory relocation is the only rational approach for many”. A prescription for a sleep aide often is needed as this point.

This is where the real discomfort for many begins. Due to current loss of home values in the majority of states finding a home buyer willing to offer what is owed on the home can be harrowing. Often selling your home means coming to the closing table with a check for the bank.


In light of the financial losses suffered by many Americans last fall the option of bringing money to the bank to SELL your home is often not an option. If there is a job loss in the picture the chance of having funds available can be pretty dismal.

According to the CDC, this syndrome is spreading at an accelerated rate in part due to the inept government stimulus package passed by our legislators. The only drug to treat that is a total amnesiac. This is similar to the drugs often given to our mothers in the 50's-60's that caused them to forget their chilbirth experiences.The draw back to a drug this powerful is that you may not remember crucial information like how many children you have. Unfortunately there is no medical treatment for the ineptness of our government leaders.

Often the only procedure to avoid foreclosure is to submit to the ”short sale“ process. This is an effective remedy but one that is not often easily achieved.This is where the help of pharmaceuticals can be employed to alleviate the process. Upon listing their homes the clients are offered several pain mitigating options as many metro Detroit homeowners simply cannot make it through the selling process “naturally”. Depending on the severity of their situation a medical evaluation is made and narcotic pain relievers may be deemed appropriate.

 

At the very least the on-call doctor will prescribe a mild anti-anxiety medication while the home is on the market. Once there’s a contract in process sellers are offered Valium to help them not blow a gasket when the inevitable battering comes from the buyers to offer more concessions from them.

 

If they make it to the closing table the doctor will then come to administer a short acting epidural so the sellers can sign the closing documents without screaming out in pain. There is an alternate treatment plan being discussed which combines the epidural with an amnesiac so the home sellers can forget the home they just sold for pennies on the dollar and the damage it's doing to their chances of a comfortable retirement.

This particular broker has set up a holding room where clients spend a few hours recovering from their epidurals. The lights are kept low and soothing music is played to calm down the sellers before being released to start pulling their lives back together.


Mr. Broker is encouraged, “since we began offering this service our listings have tripled. The clients still go home hurting, but at least we have done all we can to help them through the process and to move on with their lives.” Critics of the new program assert that there has not been any long term studies as to the effectiveness of this treatment program. Of course that can be said of every new cockamamy government program that has come down the pike this year. Instant gratification is all that seems to matter these days.

The success of this new program has encouraged Broker and Dr. Smith to expand their program services to neighbors of their current clients. They are often found to be suffering post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and from situational depression when they find out how the foreclosures and short sales on their block are adversely influencing the home values in the whole neighborhood.

Mr. Broker reports he is being besieged with calls from brokers in surrounding states for help setting up pain mitigating programs in their states. The only dark cloud is that a program like this may not fit in with the new proposed Obama health care reform plan.