I had forgotten about linoleum. I don't mean the stuff you may have in your kitchen; that's underfoot, you clean it every now and then, and probably don't think about it. I mean good ol' classroom linoleum, where you count the squares, and scrutinize the edges to make sure they're lined up straight, and squint at the pattern of the black marks to find the face of Jesus. And now I have 75 hours to get reacquainted. I decided to start making my real estate fortune in New Jersey, and Jersey's first toll is 75 hours of class time. Drudgery. I want to be one of those multimillion-dollar-earning real estate agents, dripping in diamonds and driving a Maybach, but first I gotta go through this. There's not just a state licensing requirement for real estate salespeople, there's an attendance r...
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