Typical Day
Abby Prayser walks into the break room like a woman on a mission. It's almost 8:00AM and she has just over an hour to get organized and map out a busy day before the phone starts ringing. It's spring, and the annual (though informal) homes-and-land parade—when everybody and their grandma will be looking to buy and sell—starts next weekend.
Abby taps her foot as she watches fresh coffee stream into the pot. C'mon, I don't have all day. As soon as the coffee is ready, she grabs it and scurries back to her office.
Abby grabs a note pad and sips from the steaming cup of coffee, impatient for the caffeine to work its magic. There's a lot to be done and not a lot of time in which to do it. First, she needs files pulled for each property on the parade of homes. Over the winter months, Abby spent much of her downtime getting up to speed on the growing areas of town. New developments attract tons of buyers, each needing an appraisal. While Abby is only too happy to create a report for them, she's a little worried that she's bitten off more than she can chew this time around.
Second on the list? Pull new comparable prices for the area and double-check each address for current photos, updating as needed. Third, edit any legal descriptions for the parade area, or at least note where building has started. Fourth, check new building permits. Fifth, breathe. Nothing will get done if she kicks the bucket at 8:30AM.
Footsteps break Abby away from planning. "Ms. Prayser?" It's a young woman, college-aged, wearing a blazer and some rather nice pearls.
Abby forces herself to be nice. It's not this girl's fault she came in at a terrible time. "Yes. Good morning. Can I help you?"
"I hope I can help you. I'm Chelsea. Your intern for the spring quarter?" Chelsea gestures vaguely, clearly unnerved by Abby's tepid reaction to her "I was supposed to start today?"
Whoops. Abby should have checked her calendar more carefully. It's written right there in bright red: Intern starts. "Yes, come in. I just wasn't expecting you so early. We have another half hour before we open. How did you get in?"
"I saw someone with a badge and showed them my student ID. What are you working on?"
"I'm trying to get ahead of the big parade of—"
"Homes that's coming up soon? I can help with that."
Abby blinks. She's already finishing my sentences? Wow. I think I like this kid. "Okay, Chelsea. Take this list of parade properties and make a copy. Your login info is on the desk outside my door. Once you get on the computer, go to the folders that go with each address and copy the overview page, print them and put them in order. If you have any problems, just let me know, okay? Thank you."
While Chelsea busies herself with the parade of homes info, Abby checks her regular calendar. 10:00AM meeting with Cindy Blonsdell. Abby rolls her eyes—Cindy isn't the brightest client Abby's ever had. What's more, she's not happy with the valuation Abby listed for a recently inherited property. Fortunately, Abby will be out of the office later, so she won't be able to (read: won't be forced to) spend a lot of time with Ms. Blonsdell.
A ringing phone gets Abby's attention. Yep. 9:00AM on the dot. "Hello, this is Abby, can I help you?"
It's someone who's interested in one of the parade properties. Abby tries not to sound unprofessionally gleeful as she says, "I know exactly which property you're interested in and I have a file on it already. Would you like to meet this afternoon? Say, 4:15PM? Great, I'll write you in. Looking forward to meeting you in person."
Abby pulls the file for her meeting with Ms. Blonsdell and prints out a map with surrounding properties. Right at 10:00AM, Chelsea taps on the door. "Ms. Blonsdell and company to see you."
Abby looks up with a smile as Cindy Blonsdell and her eighty-something-year-old aunt, Lucille, walk in. Aunt Lucille starts talking before Abby can even invite them to sit down.
"Ms. Prayser, we're just sure this property of Cindy's is worth more than your report indicates. We thought there were some things you didn't understand, so we want to see if we can help you."
Abby doesn't know whether to feel sorrier for Aunt Lucille or herself. The elderly lady makes an impassioned speech about the oak tree her father planted in the front yard (that's an old tree), the basement wall where three generations had their heights marked, and the antique tire swing out back that is responsible for years' worth of children's fun and laughter.
Politely, Abby explains there's just no way to properly value priceless memories, and therefore she had to leave them out of her report.
After they leave, Chelsea walks in with the documents Abby requested. "Wow, I couldn't help overhearing. Do you get that a lot?"
"I'm afraid so. Well, not that much. But it happens more than I'd like. People generally can't think objectively about their homes." Abby checks the clock. "I have to get to the courthouse and then to the city planner's office, then back here this afternoon for a meeting. Can you please look through the files for the parade of homes and make notes on pictures for each property? And then, after lunch, take my camera and get new pictures as needed? Can you do that?"
"Sure, no problem." Chelsea scoots off and gets right to work. Yeah, Abby definitely likes this kid.
Abby gets to the planning office and makes copies of the new permits that've been issued over the past couple of weeks. She stops for a quick lunch, then hustles on over to the courthouse to pull records on a couple of properties she's working on. Oh no, one has an encumbrance for a debt owed. Wait, from sixty years ago? Okay. That can probably be dropped, no worries.
Now if she could just get the home owner's association (HOA) to compromise on a couple of issues...like whether or not a tree house (which is not allowed) is still considered a tree house if it’s on the ground under a tree. It would be great if they decided it wasn't, but the HOA is responsible for keeping a neighborhood easy to sell. They can't just bend the rules left and right.
Abby's alarm lets her know it's time to get back to the office for her 4:15PM meeting. Oh, for heaven's sake. Where did the time go?
When Abby returns, the file she needed for her meeting, complete with new pictures, is laying on a desk. A note on top says, Checked your calendar and saw you'd need these. I'm gone to evening classes. See you tomorrow, Chelsea.
Abby grins. Chelsea is practically her twin, just fifteen years younger. Well, let's say twelve years.
The knowledge that she's lucked out with her intern is enough to propel Abby through her meeting with what turns out to be a nice young couple looking to start a family. The meeting lasts all the way to 5:00PM, at which point she could call it a day and head home. She ends up staying until 6:00PM, though, just to straighten out some paperwork so that things will be all set for tomorrow.