I've been showing the same buyer houses for eleven months now. Eleven. She's seen forty-three properties. I know this because I started a spreadsheet to track my own descent into madness. Every single house has been wrong for a different reason. Too close to a busy street. Too far from a busy street. Kitchen faces east and she doesn't like morning light. Kitchen faces west and she's worried about afternoon heat. One house was rejected because the neighbor had a boat in their driveway and she "doesn't trust boat people." Last week I found her a place that met literally every requirement she'd ever mentioned. I triple-checked. She walked in, stood in the living room for maybe ninety seconds, and said the energy felt "spiritually congested." I asked what that meant. She said the house had "too many corners." It's a house. It's a rectangular house. All houses have corners. She texted me this morning asking if I'd seen anything new. I'm currently sitting in my car in a grocery store parking lot pretending I didn't get it.