I hosted an open house last Sunday where a woman walked in, immediately took off her shoes, and proceeded to do a full yoga routine in the empty living room. Downward dog, warrior pose, the whole sequence. When I politely asked if she had any questions about the property, she shushed me and said she was "testing the spiritual flow of the space." She was there for forty-five minutes. She did not ask a single question about the house. Meanwhile, a guy showed up with a measuring tape and spent twenty minutes measuring every closet while muttering about his "extensive sneaker collection." He left without a word. Then a couple let their kid eat an entire bag of Cheetos while sitting on the staged white couch. The white couch that I borrowed from the stager and personally signed a liability waiver for. The only actual interested buyer who came through? She loved everything about the house but said she couldn't make an offer because her psychic hadn't approved the address numerology yet. I smiled for three straight hours. My face still hurts. I need wine and a career change, in that order.