It's the...

EYE OF THE TIGER

It's the thrill of the fight!

Welp, another round today as we continue to try to stay relevant to the competition that's around us. More exhaustion as we've changed the dynamic and stopped splitting commissions 3 ways. It was the only way to try and save some grace.

Ashley went to her last sales meeting today and it was really fun watching her play the game of Question Tennis with the team. It would figure that Keith would be the first one to whiff on a question. Hello? the end in a question mark and generally your voice goes a little higher at the end.

Anyways, if life is a rollercoaster we continue to be on that part that cranks the car forward, slowly up the hill. chink.....chink.....chink....chink.

As we reach the top Im noticing that on the other side it's quite foggy and you cant really tell where your car is going to go. It's misty you might say. However, I have been told that this particular roller coaster took Tarp money to stay afloat and they've been able to pay the people on their HB1 Visa's to work on the rails of the track further down so hopefully we dont over run run them, knock them off, come crashing off of the track and need additional tarp money to weave together some sort of money parachute to land safely on the ground.

Here's to Ashley showing us that selling homes in the foreclosure market and shortsale market and builder inventory, is where it's at.

Nerves

This is certainly going to be a nerve wracking year but perhaps one where we lay the foundation for the next push forward. While I provide a small but stable ground, Ashley is branching out to join a Real Estate team focusing on shortsales and foreclosures. Should that go as it is planned she will begin to truly bring in a second line of income after toiling away through multiple disappointments working for the builder.

If she can become a steady stream of income it will relieve some of the pressure on this line to give some breathing room to perhaps be able to analyze the landscape, fertilize some seeds, grow some relationships, and perhaps launch a shot at the moon. I know that I have the talent to succeed in my genre and am just looking for the opportunity, the right opportunity, one in which a buzzsaw is not around the next corner, one in which I can use the skills Ive sharpened over the last 10 years.

This recession, if I can find some wiggle room, could be just what is needed to light some gunpowder.

I am an $%^&hole

Why you might ask?

Well this past summer I bought my mother's car from her and got the tag switched into my name. I however was an idiot and left the old tag on the car with the new tag in the trunk thinking that I'd swap them out when I get to it.

Well I never got to it.

So today my wife calls me and says to me when I answer the phone, "Where is this car's registration?" And I knew.

Now what put's the icing on the cake other than my wife being pulled over for my lack of plate initiative? How's about the police officer actually took the time to swap the tags out for me.

So not only did I keep the police from going after real criminals (dont get me started about the one's on Wall Street) AND having to have my wife deal with being pulled over for nothing that was her fault, I had to have Officer Friendly perform manual labor on MY CAR.

Wow, I've sunk to a new low.

Good Fight Exhaustion

Im tired of fighting the good fight when the opponent keeps changing:

the customer
the competition
my own company
my battery

Every day there is a new opponent and while I've (with help) done a good job fighting the good fight and winning, the finish line or judges scorecards keep changing. Just before I'd get to feel the tape across my chest the two Mexican midget twins holding each end of the tape, vanish and I see another mile ahead, 2 Finnish midget twins holding said tape.

Now I could stop where the Mexicans were and take an incredulous look around but no. I only get to breath for a moment before heading towards my pasty white midget friends...but I know now that they'll vanish and reappear a mile ahead as two Mongolian midget twins....smiling, missing teeth. I hate you midget twins.

Rechargeable?

So there are such things as Rechargeable batteries, rechargeable debit cards, rechargable cell phones, etc.



I feel like we are also Rechargeable humans. In a way. After work yesterday I felt like I got hit by a freight train. It was busy from the minute I opened up to the time after I was already supposed to be closed. Now it was a Saturday. Saturday's might traditionally be a day where plans are made to do something in the evening....whatever is your thing.

However, for me, my night consisted of UFC on TV by myself. I feel pretty darn good today and am thinking had I gone to the movies with the wife or hung out like we did on Friday, I'd be toast today. Last night its as if I plugged my ass into a recharger, perhaps on the wall but in this case on 'my chair'. I sat to and fro, leaned in and out, played on the laptop, ate some food, drank some drank, and vegged. My light went from blinky red to blinky green.

I know over time that the more charges you get the less time the charge gives you so perhaps that's when people kick the bucket. Their charger isn't giving them enough juice. Anyways, I'm a little coppertop!

SIX and three

I dont know what it is but working 6 days on and 3 days off is just a crazy rollercoaster.

At the start of your 6 days on youre filled with this sense of that youre about to start a marathon. You're energized and ready for it but you know that it's going to be a long one. You have to make sure you have enough supplies, you've got the right attire on and you're ready to deal with a bunch of crap.

By the middle of the 6 youre still feeling ok but you realize that youre only about halfway there and are just going to have to push on. You've been able to look back at the road behind you and realize that there is no turning back and that you're going to make it if you'll just dig. Dig deeper.

By day 5 you're a little crusty. You're legs are sore and you think it stinks that tomorrow is not your day off like it used to be. It's only one more day and than it hits you.....THREE days off are on the other side of the finish line.

On day 6 you're ecstatic, just plain giddy. You can't wait to be off. You can look back at your six days on and see that youve accomplished X, Y, and Z. You're happy and it is all peaceful in the world.

On your first day off you wake up to birds singing. Amazingly the sun shines down on your abode a little birghter and little warmer than all the other casa's on the block. The mailman brings your mail to the door. The kids next door are washing your car, for fun. While the stock market is falling all of your holdings go up. The grocery store delivers, only to your home. It's just the best day. It's as if you're the star of your own Disney movie and it's just begun.

Day 2 is pretty darn good and you can't believe that at the half way mark you're only half-way done! Things are still good and while the sun isn't shining as bright it's still warm and smiley.

Day 3 is a mixed bag, sweet yet sour. You're excited to have this 'bonus' day off but you begin to look at the next race. You begin to realize that you have to get ready....again. You look forward to the evening but you know that it is simply the harbinger of the next day.

Such is the rollercoaster of the 6 and 3 but there is one wonderful thing about the whole thing. At least you have a 6.

Growing Up Stinks

I went to a friend's funeral today and as Im sitting here at home thinking about this day I've come to realize more and more so that growing up stinks.

This isn't the first funeral Ive gone to but the other funerals allow you to prepare. When my grandparents died on my mom's side, I was much younger and very selfish with my emotions. While i felt sadness their inevitable deterioration allowed me to detach a bit and prepare myself.

When my Granpa Irving died much more recently while prepared it hurt quite a bit and I still miss him and his cantankerous ways. Ill never forget our political conversations. The last few weeks hurt but I was able to feel the hurt which was probably a good thing. I think that that is what youre supposed to feel. That year his favorite baseball team made it really far into the World Series and I just imagined him out there on the field, a ghost, blowing the ball to and fro to try and effect that base hit for the Tigers.

Today's funeral was out of the blue. While I wasn't the closest person to Eason he was still a part of what I know as my 7 Bridges gang and it was truly expected that he would be there whenever a there happened. He was light, bubbly, and at the remembrance service today someone mentioned him saying, "That's messed up." and I could literally see him saying it. I didnt expect to cry. Like I said, Eason and I weren't the best friends of the gang but we certainly were friends and could easily hang out comfortably with one another and share in the same stories and not miss a beat. I was all tears at the funeral.

Misty, his wife, now widow is a very strong person. She has handled this situation with grace and thankfulness that I might have a hard time finding in such trying times. Seeing her at the service speaking has me tearing up while typing right now. She was amazing and her and those that spoke truly show courage in the face of adversity. I'm not sure that as a kid I was capable of feeling it, as a young adult I was prepared, as an adult I felt it but was able to see quality time for the quality it was, but now it just stinks.