I had a buyer who I'd been working with for eight months. Eight months of weekends, evening showings, rejected offers, tears in my car. We finally got one accepted, sailed through inspection, appraisal came in perfect. I'm mentally spending my commission. Three days before closing, she calls me sobbing. Her psychic told her the house had "dark energy" and she couldn't go through with it. A psychic. Not a home inspector finding foundation cracks, not cold feet about the neighborhood—a woman with tarot cards she found on TikTok told her the southwest corner of the living room had "unresolved spirits." The sellers were furious. Their agent was furious. My broker asked if I was joking when I explained why we were terminating. I was not joking. I wish I was joking. She forfeited her earnest money, which was honestly the only thing that kept me from driving into the ocean. Two weeks later she texted me a listing and asked if I'd show it to her. I'm still deciding if I'm going to respond or just change my phone number entirely.