Last week, I did something I've been wanting to do for a long time. I quit being a real estate agent.
I really haven't been practicing this occupation for some months now, but last week, I took two important steps to get me on a road toward recovery: I picked up my license from my broker and brought it home in the bottom of my bag, and I canceled my real estate e-mail account.
When I announced this news to some of my staff at the bike shop, one of them asked incredulously: "so, what are you gonna do now?"
"I guess I'm gonna work at the bike shop" I said brightly.
When Chris and I first opened Rapid Transit Cycleshop, we worked together day and night, and did everything that needed doing, from ordering inventory, pricing it, selling bikes, repairing them, to sweeping the floor, taking the trash out, and cleaning the toilet. Other people go to work, we joked; we go to fun!
And it was true. We loved the work, we loved the long hours, we loved the contact with our customers. In the past, when someone said "I love working with people", I thought they were nuts. Now, I really knew what that meant. I really got a kick out of that interaction with customers. They would come looking for a solution, a vision, a dream, and I would help them get to it.
Others often asked us how we can work together day in and day out. The truth is, we couldn't imagine it any other way. It mystified us how other couples can work separately for many hours each day, and then sit around the dinner table and find something to talk about. Chris and I rarely had the opportunity to sit around the dinner table. We worked well past that time of day. But when we were huddled around the teapot in the morning, or wolfed down pizza sitting on the shop floor, we were inextricably entwined in each other's lives.
As time went on, we hired some staff, and then some more, but for the first several years we still continued doing essentially the same work as everyone we hired to work for us. It was as if we simply needed more of us to handle the work. Eventually, we began to realize that in order to run the business more effectively, we would have to take on a more managerial role, and let our staff handle much of the daily operations and customer interactions. That wasn't easy, because we had always maintained a very collegial atmosphere at the shop. We had little use for hierarchy, and were uncomfortable with administering rules and regulations.
But it was becoming increasingly clear that our commitment to the enterprise was different from everyone else's, and therefore, our role needed to reflect that. For us, this was not a summer job. It wasn't something we would do for a couple of years until something more permanent came along. This was it. This was our livelihood. This was our nest egg. This was what caused us to lose sleep at night. This was our third, but by far the most demanding, child. This was our future. Moreover, this was where some people worked, and we began to feel a growing sense of responsibility for their future employment and welfare. We also felt a sense of responsibility toward the community that fostered us and allowed us to grow.
For a while, we concluded that the best way to serve the growing needs of this voracious business was for reduce our dependence on it and seek another source of income. This is why I ventured into the field of real estate sales. I really gave it an honest try. I even think that I was a pretty good real estate agent. The problem was, that it wasn't at all aligned with the path we were on as a family. I really felt that my husband, my family business, and my children were traveling one way, and I kept asking them to wait for me at rest areas while I attended to my clients.
One day, while on a bike ride through our neighborhood, my kids and I started chanting:
"What do we hate? Real estate!"
So I quit.
And now, I have to define my job anew. Interestingly, being away for a few years makes some things easier. I am no longer so close in age to my employees (sigh!...), nor am I so close to most of them personally. Most of them don't remember the days when I took out the trash and scrubbed the toilets, and so they don't expect me to do those things. In fact, many of them hardly know what to expect of me.
I hardly know what to expect myself.
But I sure am glad to be back.
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