I was 'fired' by a client last Sunday.
To be fair, I might not have laid out expectations as well as I should have.
Monday to Saturday, I'm your gal. But between real estate and this reno project, I work all. the. time.
I'm the first to admit it's not healthy.
By Sunday I know it's time to take a break, so I keep my elbows out pretty hard.
Unless it's an emergency, a totally inflexible schedule or an offer deadline...you'll have a hard time peeling me away from my family on a Sunday.
So I didn't respond to the 9:30am text on Sunday asking for a viewing at 10:30. In fact, I didn't even see it until 3:00.
But I was still beating myself up about it on Monday.
Then on Monday I received a box of samosas.
A dear client and friend made a trip to her favourite Toronto samosa haunt, put them in a gift bag with tissue paper, dragged them all the way to our Campbellford showing and gifted them to me as a thank you for taking the time to work with her.
I've never given samosas much thought. But they're the best tasting thing I've ever had, mostly because they were such a thoughtful, unexpected gift.
Tuesday brought another reminder that my people are out there.
A client commented on a recent post, reminding me about the time I helped her and her husband through an incredibly difficult transaction.
There are Sunday agents.
I can even find you one.
I'm not one of them.