Metrolist called to say that I was probably going to be named “Sacramento Realtor of the Year,” like last year, but I would have to agree to an interview and a major photo shoot. I said probably is no good and took a pass. Thanks, anyway. Now I feel like I have to explain this satire because there will undoubtedly be some sorry excuse for a human reading my blog who will say, what? Metrolist didn’t do that. And then the loser will report me to Metrolist Compliance, and I’ll have to send another call to voice mail.
When I first heard about mobile apps for Sacramento meal delivery, I was completely intrigued. This was even better than coming home, plopping down on the sofa and asking my husband: “What’s for dinner?” Because I have to be NICE to him. I don’t have to be nice to a meal delivery app. Nope, just bring up that cell, pick a restaurant, enter your options and pay. It remembers your orders. They also tell you how long it will take for delivery. As long as you back-track your hungry stomach an hour, you’re in business. My husband seemed to resist the idea at first, but now he’s on board. I notice he no longer gets into his car and makes runs to pick up Thai or sushi. Now, it’s all delivered to the house.
Who knew that cat cones or donuts were not the answer to prevent a cat from tearing out her stitches? Last month I wrote about taking our cat Tessa to VCA for a surgery consultation, and sure enough the surgeon suggested surgery. Immediately. Like the next day. Which meant I had to be there bright-eyed and bushy-tailed to drop Tessa off. We knew from the time Pia had surgery, our cat who suddenly had a heart attack from a blood clot, that cat cones or donuts were two options we could try. Pia was miserable with the cat cone, but she finally gave in to the donut. Her donut was somewhere in the house, but after tearing apart out bathroom cabinet, I could not find it anywhere.
What a surprise to discover that this Sacramento Realtor is actually a wealth of practical knowledge for women losing weight over 50. My manicurist, Rosa, started complaining about her weight during my visit on Friday. She grabbed a roll of fat on her stomach and with a disgusted tone moaned, “Look at this!” Her shirt that used to fit no longer fit; it was too tight. Being the compassionate person that I am, I tried to comfort her. Ha, I said, that’s nothing. In another 10 years you’re gonna discover that fat has crept around to your back and taken up residence over your ribs. Fat travels. Never before in my entire life have I seen a ripple of fat on my back.
Sacramento Realtors who answer the phone probably do ten times the business of agents who send calls to voice mail. That’s what I’m betting. I mean, I don’t have any hard statistics to back up this theory, but the reason I say this is because I get calls from buyers and sellers who often start out by saying, “I found you on the internet.” Just by sheer reasoning, you can pretty much figure if I don’t answer my phone, there will be another agent they found on the internet they can call. One thing that separates me from others is I am one of those Sacramento Realtors who answer the phone.