September 18, 1997
Dear Everyone:
How the heck did it get to be September already?
It’ll be Autumn in just a few days.
Time sure flies when you don’t keep a gun to its head.
I continue to get visits from real estate agents,
only one of whom I’ve actually seen.
Until then I’d begun to suspect that they were mythical creatures
that travel invisibly through our midst, leaving only phone messages and
business cards as evidence of their passing.
Consider: In a drawer
in the sideboard I have a stack of business cards; 26 cards, only one
confirmed agent-sighting.
And I’ve seen him twice.
Obviously, I’m out a lot.
I’ve actually accepted an offer on the condo, but
it has two contingency clauses.
Because of this, the place stays on the market and, if a better
offer falls into my lap, I’m free to accept the better offer.
One contingency relies on the
Homeowners
Association approving a free-standing banister next to the two steps
that lead up to the walkway to the front door.
The Buyer is an elderly woman who wants the assurance of a
banister going up the steps.
Since I’ve seen such banisters in front of other units, I don’t
anticipate a problem with the Association, especially since the Buyer
has offered to pay for the installation.
The second contingency, understandably, is the
selling of the Buyer’s own home.
Actually that’s not a problem since her daughter is planning on
buying the custom-built home, thus keeping it in the family.
So the real
contingency is the daughter finding a buyer for her place.
Said daughter is a
real estate
agent herself, working for the agency that’s listing my place.
She undoubtedly knows how to make a property attractive, so I
have no qualms about getting a call soon.
As soon as she gets an offer on her place, everything will start
moving and I’ll really have to start looking for a new place down south.
And ordering reports and getting the water heater
double-strapped and replacing the screen on the bedroom window and
getting a replacement key for the pool that I’ve never used and I only
thought I was busy before.
Meanwhile, back at the office...
There was a lull in the number of crises last week,
aided and abetted by “Wilbur” who has been handling a lot of the
questions and minor problems, and I was finally able to work on getting
the company-wide retention schedule into
Versatile.
This involved a lot of data manipulation and configuration and
just plain typing it in sometimes.
It’s the kind of thing you really have to be able to concentrate
on to finish successfully, which is one reason I haven’t gotten to it
since last May. But it’s all
done now and that brings a
great feeling of accomplishment.
Now on to the next crisis.
Movies...
“Jeannie” and I went to see
My Best Friend’s Wedding
last weekend.
Julia Roberts
plays a career woman who has no thought for marriage until her best
friend, a man, announces that he’s found the girl of his dreams and
please come to the wedding.
Suddenly, Julia will do anything to torpedo the wedding and somehow
convince the guy that he’s really in love with, and should marry, her.
Occasionally, she suffers bouts of sanity, but for
the most part she engenders one catastrophe after another.
It has moments of amusement.
But the real reason for going to see it is to watch her co-star,
Rupert Everett,
playing the editor, George, deftly steal every scene he’s in.
The other actors haven’t got a prayer.
Rupert is worth watching out for, and worth the price of
admission.
Love, as always,
Pete
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