2 Comments

  1. I’m not even kidding you when I tell you that once, a long time ago, when I was showing the first house my ex-husband and I lived in…the lockbox was on the door. There were no appointments. I had turned into an OCD crazy woman who would clean, tidy, spray febreeze and pour Fabuloso down the drains and in the toilets on a regular basis…just in case.

    Well, I decided to take a shower…because that’s what people. After I turn off the water and towel off, I hear voices and footsteps coming up the stairs. Um, the bedroom door leading to the open door in the bathroom were WIDE open. I WANTED to die.

    Needless to say, I brought that little box inside when we were home.

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