Flipper heads to real estate school

Diary of a real estate flipper

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.