I've long wondered what effect my career change will have on my nightly essays, and how badly my store of subject matter might dry up, from an ethical standpoint. I think we got that answer tonight in class. This week they are drilling into our memories the fiduciary responsibilities associated with the laws of agency. Once I as an agent (assuming I successfully complete this class and pass the test) enter into a relationship with a client, I am forever bound to keep that client's confidence. It won't end once I close on a house with that person. I will always have to keep their details secret. I never planned on closing each day telling you how much money anyone has to buy a house, or such nonsense, but I still have to be very careful not to reveal much of anything about my job once I have it. I might be really tempted to blog about how I just took a listing on a house that is all pink, from the walls to the curtains to the carpet to the fixtures, pink, pink, pink. But I will have to resist temptation, no matter how funny or unbelievable I might find my work to be on a given day, when anything I say could link back to someone who has offered me their trust. I hope that there will be things that I am allowed to say, but for now I'll err on the side of caution until I figure out whether I could or more importantly should.
Class is going really well so far. Three nights in and I feel like I'm getting a good handle on it. I'm not shy about asking the dumb questions, or participating in group discussions, even when my answers are wrong. I learn as much from making mistakes as from getting homework or quizzes all correct. In some ways I wish I had taken this leap years ago, back when it first occurred to me that I wanted to do this for a living, but it does seem like this particular class, with this particular teacher, was waiting for me to reach it in my own time. The instructor really knows his subject, and he has a knack for steering class discussion to making sure we are absorbing what we need to know.
I don't know whether it's a result of fatigue, from studying and driving and working my brain overtime, but I am more amused than I ought to be by tonight's picture. I love language nerd graffiti. I was in a building where languages are regularly taught (ESL meets next door to our real estate class), and in a bathroom with slow plumbing. Whoever made the signs in each stall had a sense of humor, and the result was like Tumblr appearing in the wild.
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