In other words, my life in the past month. I've been living out of a few suitcases since mid-May, first at my friend's place, and now at my mom's. My friend had rented her rooms out for the GAS Conference previously, so all of us halfway-house residents have bugged out for the week. I'm bunking at Mom's, in her one-bedroom apartment. We'll be OK for a week. Also, things on the mortgage front are looking positive for the first time since approximately spring break, which is about seven weeks ago now. If I'm still not in the house by the end of the week, I can go back to my friend's and have my own space again, as well as springing my cat from the cooler.
It's not easy, bouncing from place to place. I woke up this morning wondering what bag my shoes were in. I haven't lived with a parent since I graduated from college. I'm having a health insurance issue (translated: the doctor's office needs to get their finger out), and I can't get to my filing cabinet where my insurance information is. But what it comes down to is, either way, whatever the end of the week brings, I'm OK. I'm safe. I have a roof over my head, a mom who cooks supper for me, and friends in all corners who are pulling for me. The mortgage guy may be an ass, and the mortgage industry may be a dismal quagmire, but I have far more people rooting for me and supporting me than one silly man and one silly business can overwhelm. Pretty neat, eh?
(I'd still really enjoy getting the OK to close this week, though...)
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3 comments:
for what it's worth, this post and that of my (nameless) mortgage broker friend (in somewhere, usa) came up back to back on my googlereader. it sounds like you've for the better deal by far. here's hers:
"Because I cannot afford to be dooced, I will not describe how many times the police have been to our office, nor the furniture flying, the hole in the wall or any of a number of overheard profane suggestions that burnt my little ears like habenero peppers. I have been throwing myself into the garden after work. There I may safely chop up the things that are bothering me and throw them away. The guy in the house behind us gave me permission to cart off what I want of the mountain of mulch at the alley head his ex ordered two years ago, so I am getting my excercise, one free five gallon bucket at a time. Whew."
I've been hoping that you were busy unpacking.
You will be soon. Everything happens that needs to happen. You have learned that your support system is strong. Do you need anything besides a mortgage?
We find our fortune in misfortune, I guess. Still, I'm sorry that you're still enduring this particular mortgage hell.
I think a house-warming is in order. In a Dropkick Murphys sort of way.
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