Educational

Inspirational song: Teacher, Teacher (Rockpile)

Every real estate agent in this state is supposed to take continuing education classes, including an annual update course that focuses on things the commission that regulates us wants us to pay attention to. My boss, who was also my pre-licensing instructor, also teaches this class. This morning was my first chance to get the update out of the way, and I took it. The presentation is prepared by the state commission (at least that's the way it is currently -- one of the bullet points today says this might change), and it was an information-dense 180 Power Point slides. So glad that boss-man emailed them out to us at the end of last week, so he didn't have to print out 20 copies of that nonsense. Even at 4 slides per page, that would have been half of an old-growth forest just for handouts. I'd spent much of the winter holidays postponing thinking about real estate, while few people were searching for homes and even fewer were putting their properties on the market. I almost let my break go on too long, and it made it hard to get my head back in the game. That's the best reason I can find to have taken the class so early in January. I've got my work brain back, and I'm ready to shift my focus back to the business at hand.

We had been running an experiment to have my buddy from Rotary filter through all the leads that come in off of the internet, and soften them up for us a bit. It was intended to be a temporary thing, and not go on past the end of this month. Now I need to figure out how to convince the boss that she is the best thing that ever happened to us. She is incredibly good at what she does, and thanks to her, I have half a dozen new stellar leads that are turning into real clients. I suck at cold-calling people, and no amount of training or practice is ever going to make me good at it. More than half of my life has gone by, and I'm getting worse at phone calls, not better. I certainly will never be as good at it as my friend has been. Once I'm face-to-face with someone, I'm golden, but that telephone is a barrier I hit every time.

Someone I only know through Facebook asked about gluten sensitivities today, in one of those "I don't believe anyone who doesn't have Celiac or Hashimoto's" way. I declined to try to enter that conversation. No, not everyone who is sensitive to the stuff has Celiac, and it is not an "allergy" in the classic sense. But there are so many autoimmune diseases, of which Celiac is only one, and there is so much research yet to be done. I am so heartily sick of people being smug about things they don't understand and don't respect. Last month I had a stranger say to me "well, congratulations for actually having the disease and not just doing it for a fad," in the most condescending way. Please, unless you are a rheumatologist or studying gut bacteria or something equally helpful, don't be an asshole about something you don't fully understand. Until the research is all in to provide a better vocabulary, allow me to tell the cashier at 5 Guys that I want my cheeseburger as a lettuce wrap "because of an allergy" so they change gloves and don't use the same spatulas on my patties as the ones that touch buns. And please don't dump the spoons for the yogurt cups in the corporate breakfast spread that you're providing in the same basket as the lemon pound cake (or at least don't laugh at me as I look at this pick-up-sticks puzzle with a look of horror and wonder whether I'll make it through the entire training without my intestines exploding). It doesn't threaten you as much as you think for me not to be able to eat what you eat. Unless you consider the risk of me polluting the air around you and the public restrooms where we share space a threat. Maybe I should make good on those particular threats once in a while, to teach people a lesson.