Is it a rule that a good day at work must be followed by a bad day?
Is it a rule that bad days at work must occur after nights with four or less hours of sleep?
Is it a rule that favorite friends only beg for babysitting on weekends that you plan to be out of town?
I could go on, but there are better pastimes than caring about these things that seem to happen together as if there were a rule, which I’m sure there is not. I could, for instance, wonder about other people’s lives. I wonder how fascinating it is to make maps and be called mapmaker. I wonder if there will ever be another “moment of well-being”. I wonder what Cambodia is like in the summer. I wonder how much longer the sick neighbor next door will live. I wonder if my parents feel cared for. I wonder if Wisconsin is going to have a beautiful summer. I wonder if Peruvian Mary is going to make it to work tomorrow. I wonder if the tennis coach is going to rent our condo.
Oh yes, being a landlady is one of my duties, since Dennis doesn’t feel free to follow up on things during the day. And it always gets more interesting, to put it kindly, when a renter is moving out and another has to be found. We are in that situation now and I have been getting on average three calls a week inquiring about our condo. Almost two weeks ago, sitting in Saturday night church, I got a text asking for info and giving a short description of a family with one son and a cat needing a home in August. Most of the time I don’t get texts from strangers who don’t even know if I text or not. This guy had good written English which impressed me, so I started the dialogue. He wanted to see it right away so on Sunday I showed it. I couldn’t pass up the chance to meet someone named Attila. And wouldn’t you know, he was from Hungary. Yes. But he musn’t know what we call him.
He is drop dead handsome, thirtyish, and a tennis pro with a job. He liked the condo, the best thing going for it being that it is right next to the tennis court – looks out on it, in fact. I spent all last week researching the flooring hurdle. They feel they need hard flooring instead of carpet because of his wife’s allergies, but on the third floor of a building there are rules (RULES) about what kinds of floors you can have based on how loud they are. They’ve seen it a second time and I’ve met the wife. She pretty much matches the husband in her female way, and she also seemed to approve. I’m not 100% sure because they speak Hungarian most of the time. I’m awaiting their final decision based on getting their son in a good school nearby. I did a fb search on his name and there he was with a tennis racket doing a splendid backhand. He has his own tennis academy and a three year work visa. Hopefully our search for a good tenant will be over.
All for now. I need a nap.