Reasons for celebration
1. Another blow for
the current administration, which has been, to my mind, intent on "saving" America by rendering its laws moot and its promises null and void.
2.
Erstwhile rock band Toto has dissolved because their lead singer can no longer perform their hits "with a straight face." Kudos to him for recognizing that just because one can, one need not necessarily try to do the same things at 50 as he did at 19.
3. Old tenants are being replaced by...hot single dad! Who has an awesome daughter! More about this later; I'm in the throes of pre-vacation packing and rental negotiations before we leave for an ill-timed restful vacation in the hot, sodden, wind-swept Midwest. Oh well, our friends have air-conditioning and, we hope, a sturdy roof. And sandbags. And a cellar, like in the Wizard of Oz. And an escape route. And an amphibious vehicle.
Labels: amateur real-estate mogul, miscellaneous life
Perpetually damn crabby
Is it somehow violating the provisions of the fairness in housing act to speed up the inevitable rejection of some prospective tenants based on the facts that:
1. They didn't read the ad
2. They ignored the information in the ad
3. They only communicate by txt msg w/out rl wrds?
4. They didn't read the ad
5. They are incapable of using salutations and indifferent to creating any sort of positive impression in our first communication?
6. They are already asking for adjustments to my policies, special treatment in scheduling, etc.? (I don't mind if people ask, politely--I remember the stone-turning trials of house-hunting).
I am not suggesting that such people don't deserve a nice place to live, or that they are inherently less responsible or fiscally attractive than those who contacted me with detailed, polite, coherent messages. But since I am who I am, and since living in my house means us having to interact with each other multiple times--at least to judge by the most recent tenancy!--then can't I just speed up the inevitable rejection? I don't want to be greeted by a grunt when I call.
And yes, the above does explain part of the problems with my approach to dating.
I realize the world, and the standard of polite communications, are changing rapidly, and that younger folks are used to using more abbreviated forms of contact. Frankly, though, as long as I own the real estate and give the grades, I'm going to insist that those who want something from me take at least a swipe at recognizing and accommodating my weird old capitalist widow preferences for punctuation, salutations, and the like.
Grrrr.
Labels: amateur real-estate mogul
Update from the trenches
Just for the record: the rental-house plumbing/sewer work is complete, although the work continues at the sidewalk on the line out to the city-owned main.
My credit-card balance has just become officially
astronomical, with further cataclysmic damage to come.
And that
{impending major life-event that is supposed to take place in the house}?
Nope. Nothing yet.
Labels: amateur real-estate mogul, domestic dramas, household management
