Monthly Archives: April 2019

April Shit Showers

Well, what can I say, April turned out to be a shit month. It started off that my deal, which was slated to close four days in, had to get pushed back, bc the sellers had trouble getting their “occupant” out of the property. Yup, he just kept blowing through deadlines, insisting that he had no place to go and no where to store his stuff. On one hand, I really felt for the guy. It reminded me that there really are huge swaths of the population where people are falling through the cracks for various reasons— health issues, addiction, abuse, what have you… On the other hand, the sellers had been letting the guy live in their house rent free for a number of years, and they always told him that one day, they would need to sell to help out their own family. It seems that he had at least some months to hatch a plan…

As all of that was happening, I learned that my childhood friend T was on the verge of eviction and homelessness. It’s a long story and we go way back to the second grade. We had lost touch in the mid-2000s and then last Christmas I saw her again. Her story is one of life’s many tragedies and it also highlights what happens when parents are fucking irresponsible with planning their eldercare. Seriously, if you’re not going to put shit into place in terms of financial planning and instructions, you don’t deserve to be parents! And of course, her brother is like my brother. Not a care in the world. Basically, he said he’ll go back for the funeral but can’t be bothered until then. As all of this weighed in my mind, I encountered a third scenario where someone was scraping by and preparing to live out of his car.

In the end, the occupant did finally leave after we extended the deadline. My hope is that he will take action and use the resources that are available to turn things around. Needless to say, the transaction was difficult to celebrate.

Other parts of work started picking up. The list agent with whom I frequently collaborate began getting all kinds of activity in his pipeline, and he called on me to assist. I was thrilled.

Then, Bentley fell very, very ill. He was lethargic, stopped getting up, stopped eating, was panting and drooling crazy. In one week, we made four trips to the emergency room, ran a shit ton of tests (blood work, ultrasound, xrays, joint taps), and things continued to get so bad that he yelped in pain when touched and he couldn’t open his mouth all the way. WTF was happening? I mean, he went from walking slowly/gingerly at home on Saturday night to getting hospitalized by Wednesday. They couldn’t figure out what was wrong. All the while, he was declining, had crazy fevers, had to get IV fluids, anti-inflammatories, antibiotics, pain killers… he got put on a feeding tube and had an oxygen mask. I was losing my shit and then I had a seminar partnering with a financial advisor, and my parents were coming to town. It was the most stressful time of my life.

The day I gave my presentation/seminar, Bentley got hospitalized. For what we thought would just be overnight on fluids, turned into five days. Then two days after getting discharged and looking better, we were back in the ER– this time at the specialist bc our general vet told us they had gotten to the end of what they could do. Then, two more nights hospitalized with the specialist and all the while, “regular” appointments are booked weeks in advance so every trip is an emergency where the doctors are trauma/ER docs NOT internal medicine docs. Meanwhile, bc his situation spanned so many days, the doctors kept changing/swapping out every few days due to their work schedule.

By the time we got to the specialists, the general vet had already suspected IMPA (Immune-mediated polyarthritis). At the specialist, we did an MRI, spinal tap, and additional joint taps. Those results ruled out meningitis and confirmed IMPA but also, the imaging showed major inflammation in his head, face, and neck– the diagnosis with that was a SECOND auto-immune disease called immune-mediated polymyositis. Essentially, Bentley had two diseases where his body was attacking itself– in all the joints as well as in the muscles, which explains the level of pain he was in.

On one hand, what a relief to have some answers. The treatment in both instances is steroids + immunosuppressives. Of course, both those meds have crazy side-effects, but for now, we had to get this whole-body inflammation under control. Even after he was discharged from the specialists on a Friday AM, he had what seemed to be cyclical fevers and then face pain recurring over the weekend. Again, back to the ER on Sunday night for a fentanyl patch to tide us over until my internal medicine specialist returned to the office on Tuesday.

On Monday morning, I started calling the general vet AND the specialty center in despair, crying to have SOMEone advise on how to reduce his pain if it escalates again. My general called me back and said the concurrent auto-immune diseases is rare and very serious. She can only defer to the specialist at this point bc it’s such an unusual case. Then, after sobbing to a vet tech at the specialty group, a different internal med doctor on staff that day called to tell me she saw Bentley the week prior when he was hospitalized. She’s only seen a few cases with the double whammy, but for sure, the first week on treatment is very up and down bc the body is just so overwhelmed. I was a total mess with her on the phone. He’s just not getting better. But she said to give it more time. We are less than a week from starting the treatment. We’re “not there yet,” she said. When we get there, we will tell you.

On Tuesday, his doc called all annoyed that my general vet had emailed her and there were numerous voicemails while she was out. I mean, what do you expect. You discharge him Friday AM, you call Saturday and he looks good, and then shit goes down Sunday and he is crying in pain again. I’m going to call every goddamn lead I have to get some freaking medical attention. Needless to say, we saw her two days later on Thursday for follow up. That place is oftentimes a clusterfuck. The tech says they’ll take vitals and blood. I say I want to talk to the doctor first before the bloodwork. Tech says doctor wants to test blood. Fine. They take the blood. Then, we see her in the exam room and she says she might not need to take blood…. WTF? His WBC count is still high– higher than 10 days prior at the general vet. But symptom-wise he is better. She palpates and feels around. Joints seem ok. Still sensitivity with the neck and mouth. We decide to continue the current treatment plan and talk about options if he stagnates or if the situation worsens…

Mind Fuck

In this business, it’s a lot about the pipeline. The goal is to come into contact with as many people as possible in the hopes that ultimately, I will connect and do business with some subset of those I’ve met. The process of “getting out there,” as they term it, is both challenging, exciting, and exhausting. In November, I completed my second full year as a licensed agent. To date, I had tried all kinds of strategies for growing my book of contacts: door knocking, cold calling, mailings, homebuying classes, flyering, open houses, emails, referrals… Some stuck better than others. I found that open houses really helped me build relationships with listing agents and loan officers. As I hosted over 65 different properties, I started to get faster at reviewing disclosures and evaluating comps. I also grew my confidence of talking with strangers and discussing the market. I have learned so much in my second year. I’m much more familiar with the software, the digital forms, and my new brokerage (which I joined in July) is so damn organized. The office has systems and processes, and people really know what they’re doing.

It’s interesting bc I didn’t think I would like real estate as much as I do, but somehow, I find myself really enjoying what I’m learning and I am seeing now how starting my third year, there is something that compels me to get up every morning. I feel motivated to build my knowledge, skills, and mastery.

In February, I attended an intensive 3-day training in Southern California. What I realized is that my top motivation really is about finding a role that is compatible with my personality and skill set and then growing in that role to become the best that I can be. In some bizarre way, real estate brings out a feeling that I probably haven’t felt in many, many years: competition and striving for excellence. As a kid, I was super competitive. I excelled in various academic arenas– in school and in Chinese school. I did speech competitions, participated in activities and teams– math, science, Latin, mock trial. And then college crushed me. And after my dreams of being a physician were dashed, it seemed like my life was just going to be about settling for mediocrity. I went through a series of careers and jobs… I did well in them, but the long term wasn’t very clear. With real estate, I feel like there is a trajectory. I feel like there is a path to growing something in the future.

But there is still the daily grind. And I get frustrated. I was at a staff meeting yesterday, and an agent who has been in the business about 5 years described just how much this job messes with your mindset. Every day, she’s wondering if she’s good enough, if she should quit. Her emotional stance jumps day to day, week to week, feeling like she’s on top of the world and then plummeting to feeling just. not. good enough. It is seriously a crisis of confidence very fucking week, and that emotional instability really takes a toll. I could relate so much to what she shared. It’s a constant struggle and with the routine rejection, you really have to work at keeping your sanity. This job takes a lot of fucking resilience. Thankfully, I always get back up. It might take me a few days to recover, but I won’t be beaten down.

Goodbye Cash Cow

At the start of this year, I had set a goal to grow my dog sitting/boarding side gig. You see, from the time I started taking doggie clients, my business had doubled from year 1 to year 2. And I was thinking an extra several grand would come in handy for some expenses associated with my full time job. As it turns out, I started ramping up activities with my real estate business which meant I was not home to dog sit, esp new clients that had to be introduced and monitored with Bentley. Bubbey started getting annoyed having to coordinate schedules, and so I decided to just stick to existing clients. So things were going well with my cash cow doggie– a client from the very beginning who came regularly for both daycare and boarding– until a few months ago, she had diarrhea all over John’s office. We figured she was just randomly sick (no explanation as to why), so we told the owner and she paid for the steam cleaning. Well, a few weeks ago, the accident happened again. And since I wasn’t home to clean up the bodily fluids, John– who is queasy about that stuff– lost his shit.

I was in the middle of handling a bunch of things for work and that was the last straw. That’s right, I had to shut down the doggie biz. Bubs wasn’t about to babysit the critters while I was out, and he def wasn’t going to handle accidents inside the house. And just like that, I had to say goodbye to my cash cow.

I suppose the silver lining in all this is that now I can focus even more energy and attention on my real estate biz. Haha, I know, you didn’t think it was possible! I suppose in the grand scheme of things, picking up another buyer/seller will definitely yield higher results than picking up another doggie client. Sigh. Changes had to be made.

Not an Order Taker

Life is a funny journey. I think about all the people I have met, those with whom I have connected, formed bonds, stayed in touch… Some of them, I hold connections that, despite the distance and silence, the spark reignites quickly and easily. Others, the initial overlap and commonality felt so damn certain, so unquestionable, and yet life choices and paths happened later that seemed to deteriorate the bond almost overnight.

From the time I was in my early 20s, I knew with great certainty that I wouldn’t be having children. While I had helped my grandmother babysit a family friend’s infant during my middle school years and I fairly enjoyed the cuddly blob stage, by the time I had reached college, I felt pretty strongly about being kid free.

I’m sure the struggles of growing up with my immigrant parents– with their strict demands and constant comparisons and cultural clashes– created a home life that, while safe and secure, felt deeply rife with emotional chaos and daily drama. In my young adult life, the responsibilities to serve as a secondary parent to my brother– being at the same university and all– made me especially hate the constant nagging, harping, and mercenary feel of serving as my parents’ proxy.

The thing is, I am a responsible and trustworthy person. After all, 13/15 tests say I am ESTJ = Trustee. So I get why my parents rely on me for important matters. But the thing is, I’m also a very independent and self-directed person, so while I am dependable, I don’t like to take direction from others, especially if their approach or methodology differs from my own. In other words, I’m not a fucking secretary. I am ok with you telling me, “Here is Point A. Here is Point B.” That’s all. And herein lies the problem. I get called on to do things in manners/ways that I wouldn’t normally choose. If what you want is an order taker, I’m not the person!

So as we start encountering aging, illness, and death around us, I struggle with being selected as the dutiful one. Like the scenario with my parents and my brother. Surely, I will be tasked with being in a very uncomfortable role of honoring my parents’ wishes. Will that clash with my own prudence? Maybe our thoughts/attitudes with be in sync? Um, well that has nearly never happened in my adult life. I doubt things will be that simple.

I suppose my point is, some days, I feel tremendous burden with being a responsible and trustworthy person. Is it comparable to what I consider the burden to being a parent? That’s partly why I chose not to be one.

Or maybe I’m looking at things all wrong. But take my brother, for example. He does whatever the hell he wants. He is responsible for no one but himself. His choices are made based on himself alone. Sure, maybe he lives a lonely existence without a spouse or partner. But shit, he doesn’t have to research, plan, compromise, discuss, weigh, negotiate, persuade… he doesn’t have to do any of that. He’s just. Free. Am I oversimplifying? And I don’t mean to say that Bubbey is a burden. Bubbey is probably one of my easier relationships at this point in my life. But still, he is a person I still consider when making important decisions…

Maybe responsibility is like that of having a dog. There is responsibility but the relationship is worth it. The unconditional love is worth the obligations and the pain. Does that translate to people? Like when the shit really hits the fan, who’s part of the triage team? I mean, the bottom line is that sickness, aging, and death are scary aspects of life. If you can’t rely on your loved ones to help you during those times, what’s the point?

So how did this blog post come to my mind? I was thinking about my friends with kids. What do you do if you don’t like kids? I mean, I like my friends, but I didn’t sign up for their kids. Every now and then, sure, let’s see them. I don’t despise the kids. But it’s the same dilemma I encountered years ago with a friend married to a guy who irked my nerves. I signed up for the friend, not the two-for-one. Sometimes, I try to reverse the scenario. What if a good friend wanted to hang out and she asked that John stay home. Yeah, it would probably bug me. But at the same time, I feel like one outing without him is not gonna kill me. I like that we have a bit of independence too. I dunno. I suppose we all have limited time and in the end, it’s about how we choose to spend our time. Ultimately, it’s about priorities. For some relationships, they simply don’t weather extended distance and silence. When I feel frustrated by the distraction a child creates when I’m trying to connect with my friend, I’m told to get used to it. Or to prepare to not see the friend for the next 7-10 years, bc hello, welcome to parenting. Well I suppose we all make our choices.