Last night at the swim team end of year season my girls made me enter the adult hula hoop contest. Now, I have not hula hooped for probably 9 years and have since had 4 children . . . but I won, and it was a piece of cake. Now if only that meant my stomach was like a six pack and all nice and flat . . . but it doesn't!
Then today we have been going over the contract to lease the house in Connectictut. I now know why I majored in Genetics. There are no contracts in genetics, there is no tricky wording. There are only four letters (A, C, G, and T). When conducting experiments on cells there are no contracts or clauses. I simply don't have the stomach for contract negotiations. Trent on the other hand deals with contracts all day long. He reads them with a fine tooth comb. He notices every detail. I read something and say, "I think what they mean is this . . ." He reads them and says, "but what it says legally is this." I get emotionally attached to the paper and feel bad for it if we find any changes. He bleeds all over the paper and assures me that the contract will be better for it. I know it to be true for pruning bushes, but it just makes me a wreck when it comes to contracts. I always wonder what the other party is thinking. Are they more like me? or are they more like Trent? And then there is just the impersonal nature of them. How can you assure on paper that a person will take as good (if not better) care of your house? I don't have any way to say . . . "Hey come on over and check out my current house -- see how we live, It will set your mind at ease"
I couldn't do it for the family moving into our house (England is a bit far) but I wished I could.
This almost makes it sound like the contract negotiations have been bad . . . they have not, but any level of back and forth makes me feel all confrontational . . . good thing Trent can handle it. Hopefully it will all be over soon.
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