If I Were a Writer and Not a Real Estate Agent

If I were a writer and not a real estate agent, life would be so different. I'd stop to smell the flowers in the spring and take leisurely walks through the woods.

If I were a writer I'd start every day with a steaming hot cup of coffee in the cool morning sitting on the beautiful patio like I dreamt I would when I bought the home I'm in.

If I were a writer I'd go watch the Native American Indians do their dances at the Indian Pueblo cultural center. I'd marvel at their ornate costumes. I'd wonder what their steps meant and I'd look at their sun darkened skin and wonder who their ancestors were and if they were beautiful too.

And if I was a writer I'd move somewhere snowy, in the woods, perhaps, where I'd gaze for hours at the mountain peaks in Colorado and contemplate nature.....

But I am a real estate agent, so I eat my meals in my car three times a day and only empty out the trash occasionally.

And I'm a real estate agent, so I text when I'm having dinner with loved ones because well, that problem couldn't wait.

And I'm a real estate agent, so I bark loudly at people to get them to do what my clients need or I go sit and wait at the title company telling them I won't leave until they close my buyers.......no matter what.

I'm a real estate agent, not a writer, but I take solace in the fact that people give me their problems and their money and when they trust me, I always get the job done, if it's doable. And that's why I took this challenging job, to prove to those people who cannot or will not trust me - or anyone else - that there is someone out there who will safeguard their most priceless possession and who will watch out for their best interests. And that makes me proud.

I'm a real estate agent, not a writer, but I know this is what I'm supposed to do.