I wonder what the world would be like if Twitter took over…

It’s Friday, so let’s have a little fun!

Here is my day if it were in point form, sentance fragments like on Twitter…

Wake.

Two snoozes.  Eighteen minutes.

Shower.  Shave.  Lots of hair paste.

Eat.  Toast,  banana, pear, orange juice.

Choose flashy real-estatey-type shirt.

Laptop, gym bag, newspaper.

Drive nine minutes to work.

Listen to AM640.

9:30AM.  Still space in the parking lot.

Suddenly new Lexus looks less luxurious than the rest.

8-10 emails to from previous night to respond to.

Check new listings.

Email prospects.

Receive phone call from over-zealous real estate agent.

Listen with one ear…

Call four agents from weekend showings, re: feedback.  Check over-zealousness at the door.

Receive cold-call from friend-of-friend.

Ask all the right questions.

Sell yourself.  But don’t over-sell.

Set up meet-and-greet for the weekend.

Go upstairs.  Say “hello’s.”

Hounded by power-tripping administrator for paperwork.

Sheepish smile at cute receptionist.

Glare at nemesis.

Give pound to my dawg.

Called into boss-lady’s office for “quick chat” about “incident.”

Not my fault…

Coffee.  Tim Horton’s.  Double-Double.

Next in line says, “Large triple-triple.”  Now I don’t feel so bad.

Chat with colleagues.

Encourage the rookies.

“It’s like a snowball rolling down a hill.  Just keep on keepin’ on.”

Get into car.

Drive to Yonge & Eglinton for three condo open houses.

Please remove shoes.

Cat hair everywhere.

Cats are stupid.

Return to office.

Answer 3-4 emails.

Print MLS listing for tonight’s showings.

Get in car.

Drive to Queen West for buyer’s signature on offer.

Return.

Fax offer to listing agent.

Call listing agent.

Salesperson selling another salesperson.

Who is kidding who?

Call Rogers.  Placed in priority sequence.

My call is important to them.

Speakerphone on hold.

Receive offer on downtown condo listing.

Rejoice.

Call my sellers.  Deliver good news.

They’ll get back to me…

Really?

Go upstairs.

Look over new marketing piece.

Am I really that pixelated in real life?

Send to printers.  2500 copies.

Fill out order form with Canada Post.

Hang up with Rogers.

Late lunch.

Turkey sandwich.  Home made.

Receive sign-back on offer for Queen West client.

Get into car.

Drive back to Queen West for final signature.

Done deal.

Congrats to all parties involved.

Great property.  Great price.

I love these clients.

Catch up on emails, 25-30 since AM.

Back upstairs.

Check out new feature-sheet design for listing in St. Lawrence Market.

Looks good.

Downtown client calls back.

Not happy with offer.

Scratch head.

What do they want?

Prices from February, 2008, no doubt.

Negotiate with my own client.

Never a good thing.

Sign back at full asking price, minus $1,000.

O-kaaaay…

Head to the gym.

Beach workout.

Biceps & chest.

Look at self in mirror while nobody is looking.

Grunt.  Groan.  Lift.  Pull.  Finish…

Shower.  Lots of hair paste.

Try to drink protein shake while driving.

Fail.

Spill vanilla-flavored water all over beige shirt.

Nobody will notice.

Return to office.

Answer 8-10 emails.

Please don’t send me those emails at work.

Prepare for listing presentation.

Polish up on retorts for likely pricing objections.

Sellers wish it was February, 2008.

Receive fax for sign-back on downtown condo listing.

Would-be buyer has added $1,000 to offer.

What did we expect?

This deal is going nowhere.

Call my clients.

Receive blame, of course.

I make the market what it is, right?

Clients walk on offer.

Back to square one.

Set my lineup for fantasy hockey.

My team is superior to the Guelph Mud Rats.

Check GlobeInvestor.

Read headlines on CNN.

Get in car.

Purchase two Tim Horton’s snack wraps.

Glorified airplane food…

Drive to 333 Adelaide Street for showings.

Dream client.  Easy going.  Educated.  Reasonable.

Condo is perfect.

Plans to return on Saturday afternoon, avec ‘rents.

Shake hands.  Part ways.

Get in car.

Drive to listing presentation.

1-bedroom-plus-den, 2-bathroom, 780 square feet.

Great layout.

Awful furniture.

Construction right outside.

Worth $320,000 tops.

They “need” to get $350,000.

“I’m a great agent, but I can’t get you more than your condo is worth.”

My favorite line.

They tell me “we’ll think about it.”

50/50 chance I end up with the listing.

Stop at Sobey’s on the way home.

Pickup my mail.

Cool – I received my own flyer!

Dinner.  Chicken, rice, broccoli.

9:30PM.

Write blog post for tomorrow.

Check new listings on MLS.

Answer 4-5 emails.

Go over tomorrow’s schedule.

Sit down.

Attempt to “relax,” whatever that is.

Hockey highlights.

Jon Stewart

Read in bed.  “Panic” by Michael Lewis.

Only seems fitting…

Good. Night.