Wednesday, Jun. 22, 2011 - 9:28 p.m.

...and then we had the longest, most boring meeting with our ersatz realtor. It was like I was 15 again, stuck with my mother in a a car. Or at her office, listening to her talk real estate with other agents. So. Freaking. Boring. And the long, lonnngggg anecdotes about other real estate deals. Other houses. Other homeowners and how they priced things badly or had plumbing problems or whatever. Shoot me now. That is my personal hell, being stuck for eternity with a chatty 70 year old realtor who doesn't seem to recognize that you are not as interested in houses as she is.

J and I have been discussing whether home ownership is worth it or not, and I swear, I'm tempted to beg out of it hereafter if it will get me out of ever having to talk with a real estate agent ever again.

It didn't help that toward the end she started in on the same stories she had already told us when she first arrived. I nearly cried with the effort of not running from the room wailing in despair.

Bless her hert.

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