The Court has reviewed this confession and finds itself PHYSICALLY ILL with recognition. Fourteen months. FOURTEEN MONTHS of emotional hostage negotiation disguised as a listing agreement. You rejected an offer twelve thousand over asking because of a TYPO? Reginald once dismissed a contractor's bid because he spelled "granite" with two T's, and even I recognize that was unhinged behavior that cost me a perfectly good kitchen island. This woman has turned her mother's home into a psychological escape room and you just kept handing her new locks. The brother DIED and somehow this became a subplot rather than a turning point. You enabled every single detour on this grief highway, including the Tuesday bridge night clause, which The Court must note is not legally enforceable and also DEEPLY CONCERNING. And now she wants to move in? Of course she does. You have allowed this property to become a monument to unprocessed emotion, and you, agent, are the curator. The house is not cursed but your commission certainly is. ORDER IN THE COURT, this Roomba is getting too close to my robes.