I Really Do Hate to See a Grown Man Cry

Good riddance 2013. It was the year of the perpetual migraine.

This morning I signed an agreement with an new property management company. I negotiated a few things, including sliding scale management fees at a reduced price. Also, I asked to be able to take back the properties after 30 days of vacancy with 10 day's notice. They had 60 days of vacancy with 30 day's notice (that would equal 90 days for those of you who are skimming this paragraph). I also asked for this and that and threw in a few weird things that I was pretty sure he would balk at--including tenants pay for the stupid repairs they cause. He gave it all to me, making me wonder what else I should have requested while I was at it.

Allegedly Daisy is going to be hanging her real estate license with this dude. I called, e-mailed and texted her yesterday making sure before I gave him my contracts she would for sure be there. I never heard back, which put me in a real pickle. I had until today to change companies or I was going with Mario. So, hopefully she is there. Otherwise some one other than Daisy is my new contact.

Speaking of Mario, he sent me one last e-mail yesterday afternoon. He told me Bruce (his top minion) is crying himself to sleep every night because I did not move my homes to his company. His note made me laugh but I didn't reply. I almost asked him to post a short video of Bruce doing this and post it on their site so I could see it. But, I thought that might sound snarky and I don't want to fight with Mario. I am concerned I may need him sooner than later.

The only loose end, and it is a bit of a biggie, is I haven't seen December's rents from Kirby yet. I would tell you I am trying not to panic, but that would be a bold-faced lie. My chest seized last night and my blood pressure--which is usually pretty low--went through the roof. I am in a happy place right now and going with the optimistic idea that the rents will magically appear in my bank account like they are supposed to by the end of December before Kirby's company poofs into dust. Because I would prefer 2014 does not start out as the year of the defibrillator.