I need to make sure we’re all up to speed before I get to today’s post. Otherwise, we risk a lot of…”What’s that girl talking about now? Real estate? I didn’t even think she owned a house? Which is true, I don’t own a house, but that’s not the point. The point is I sold real estate. Actually, Ben and I both did, and the damage to our collective brain has been surprisingly minimal. Although, from time to time I need to wipe away drool from Ben’s chin.

Her are the official CliffsNotes for today’s post: I spent five hardworking years crawling over hot coals, on my elbows and knees, also referred to as real estate sales. House data sheets in one hand, a cell phone in another hand, all while holding some client’s hand with the other. Yes, I know that equals three hands, so you can imagine the advantage an eight armed goddess would have selling real estate!

What I could have done with eight hands! I would have had enough hands to do all my real estate stuff plus jab out my eyeballs, my clients’ eyeballs and occasionally shove a hand down my throat, nudging along that wretched feeling. Like when I was three months pregnant, touring twelve plus homes on a ninety-five degree summer day, with some buyer who wasn’t “exactly sure” if they wanted a three bedroom, two full bath, or a three bedroom, two and a half bath. Because you know that third toilet could make ALL THE DIFFERENCE. Oh heck, lets just look at them ALL! And while we’re at it go ahead and throw in some condos!

Anyway, the other day I was watching one of those real estate shows on HGTV. The one with the happy real estate agent and the agreeable buyers. Where the buyers have three homes to chose from…and they like it. THEY LIKE IT. And they thank their agent…Thank you real estate professional for narrowing our choices down to three. We‘re simpletons and could also use your help determining which thumbs to stick up our asses. Seriously, people I take more jeans into the dressing room at the Gap.

So I decided if I ever sold real estate again I’d have a rule sheet for new clients. It would be laminated for easy clean-up of…oh I don’t know…blood, sweat and tears. It would go something like this:

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cancer100

The continuation of our Mexican Road Trip – Part Two where I tell you more about how we’d been driving for 97 hours, I mean 13 hours, with another 43 hours, I mean 16 hours, to go before we crossed the Mexican/US border.

…Ben and I were still high from the big-cat sighting earlier that day, yet weary from all our general rubbernecking at all things oddball.

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1

Where I continue from where I left off before…

Way, way, way back when I worked as a graphic designer in Milwaukee I used to get up, shower, dress, drink coffee, drive to work, drink more coffee, add “to-do’s” to the previous day’s list, then toast a bagel. All this, before the sun got up. A remarkably, unremarkable morning routine. I’m not sure if the early bird gets the worm, but she at least gets stuck in grid-lock heading downtown on I-94.

Pre-dawn mornings in Mexico? Not so much. They practice a more common sense approach to their morning routine. As in, it’s morning if the sun’s up and if it’s dark… then it’s not the morning. Made perfect sense until the morning we left from Veracruz at 5:30 am and couldn’t find a place to buy a coffee (because the sun wasn’t up) to save our sanity. Then I was all:

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thridlane100

Side-by-side. The haves and the have-nots.

If I had a “bucket list” (a list of things I’d like to do or accomplish in this life before I kick it), I wouldn’t have expected “a Mexican road trip” to show up near the top, or even, on the outside margins of the page. So I was a little taken aback when Ben and I initially discussed driving the truck back to Wisconsin via Mexico, and I was all, “Are you kidding me? Five solid days in the car – two of which we’ll spend driving though the rural Mexican countryside? You say there’ll be armed military check points and they’ll search the car for drugs, weapons, and chickens? You say access to drinking water may be iffy? You’re telling me we’ll mostly eat out of convenience stores? Ben, I never thought you’d ask!”

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