Realtor is Viciously Attacked by Rabid Real Estate Exam Day

My throngs of followers have been absolutely clamoring to hear the riveting story of how I got started in real estate (since it's such a rare and unusual profession, I'm sure!) So, here is the first chapter in my Realtor adventures:


Octavia's Terrible Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Exam Day!

I was SO ready for my test, SO prepared! I planned everything carefully--making sure that I had my paperwork submitted in time to snag the first testing slot after the Saturday review class. I had everything together that I needed to bring, including my positive energy mantra bead bracelet. I had my clothes laid out. I had two alarm clocks set. I made sure to get a good workout the day before and I ate well. I was well rested and I was confident. I even had a special CD selected for the trip over--a cool new age flute thing that is very soothing and cheery. I was SO ready. Little did I know, I was about to have a horrible, no good, very bad morning...

It was rainy and horrid outside when I woke up and I could feel a migraine headache coming on. I drove my son Alex to school as usual and came home to get my things together--I had about 20 minute before I had to leave, and I figured if there were EVER a day to use my emergency $20 migraine pill, THIS was it. But, I couldn't find the darn thing anywhere. By the time I gave up looking, it was too late to have a leisurely jolt of caffeine. So, I decided to take the coffee to go, but couldn't find a travel mug--they'd all migrated down to the shop with hubby. I called to b*tch about that and was told that there was a plastic one in the dishwasher--no lid, but at least it would fit snugly in the drink holder.

I gathered all my essentials together--two calculators, reading glasses, my lucky pen, my book, my passport & drivers license for ID, my keys, the cat (who needed to be tossed out) and the coffee. It took some coordination to lock the door and get down our narrow front steps with all that, yet I made it safely, with only minor sloshing. But, as I settled everything into the car, I was about to discover a surprising unpleasantry: The car won't start! (Never mind that it has started every single day for the last 1800 days. Never mind that I had driven it 20 minutes earlier.)

It's dead. Code Black. No signs of life.

And now it's time to leave in order to arrive at the assigned check-in time. I call the shop again, a bit panicky, and hubby Ric dashes home and tries to jump me (the van, I mean.) Nothing. The engine won't even turn over. At this point, I'm several points above "panicky", though not quite to "hysteria." But I'm running out of time. We decide that I'll drive his VW Fox to Asheville, dropping him off at the gas station at the bottom of the hill. He'll walk the rest of the way to work (in the rain, poor guy) to save me about 10 minutes.

We pull into a gas station (he's driving) and as I switch seats, I set my coffee mug on the dash temporarily. But, as soon as I get in the car, there's a break in the traffic and he's motioning me to go. I forget about the coffee and start to pull out. As I shift into first, the coffee mug takes flight, making a perfect arc in the air and dumping 16 ounces of hot coffee on top of my head! I'm blinded and startled--coffee (with loads of cream and sugar) is dripping from my hair into my eyes and all over my glasses and clothes. The steering on the car isn't the power steering that I'm used to, and I lose control of the car, swerving into oncoming traffic. I miss a head on collision with a Chevy Silverado by millimeters. But, I'm lucky (and so is the other guy), and I manage to throw the car into reverse and get myself back into the parking lot. Ric is jogging down the road already, not having seen anything, so I leap out and charge after him, dripping and shrieking all the way. I am officially beyond the "hysterical melt down" point, and everyone at the gas station is quite aware of it!

As Ric drives me back home, I do my very best Lucy Arnez wah-wah imitation: "I wanted to take the test TODAY! Wah Wah... I was ready to take the test TODAY! WAH WAH WAH (and many MANY variations thereof.) Ric realizes that his short term future is looking grim if I don't take that test, so he decides to drive me there himself, at warp speed. I'm too emotionally distraught to even notice how fast he's driving, but I do have one bit of good fortune--I find some wipies in my purse and am able to at least get the coffee out of my bangs and auditory canals.

Miraculously, we made it there, just under the wire. And, in spite of severe Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome, I passed! I never did get rid of my headache that day, though, and smelled like a coffee shop until I got home and showered.

Anyway, I guess one can never truly be prepared.