SUSPENSE

So are we set for tomorrow morning’s closing?  Are we not?  What’s the decision, everyone?  Are we, are we, are we?

I’ve always heard that the pre-approval process is pretty rough.  Ours has been surprisingly easy up until now, so I knew that something was just bound to happen.  Knock on wood, knock on wood, knock on wood.  Over the past month, we have supplied our mortgage consultant with copies of bank statements, pay stubs, tax forms, birth certificates, marriage license, college transcripts, checks, deposit slips, school loan information, credit card payments, car payments, rent payments, utility payments, homeowner’s insurance, car insurance, renter’s insurance… these people know EVERYTHING about us.

Sheeeeeeeeeesh.

We’ve dodged several bullets, trainwrecks, falling pianos, anvils, and every other random and completely unrealistic hazard that has come our way.  Phew.

Boo-ya-kah-sha.
What’s holding us up now is out of our hands.  The bank that is providing us with the loan had approved the house’s appraisal a few weeks ago.  Our mortgage consultant read somewhere in the contract that the bank does not offer loans to modular-built homes, for whatever reason. He brought it up to the bank so that they wouldn’t back out when we sit down for closing.  We have a copy of the note that the bank has made claiming that they have unofficially accepted the home, but they have not verified with official documentation that the property type is acceptable to them yet.
So we’re just waiting on their phone call.  Hitchcock couldn’t have filmed a more suspenseful scene.
My puppy.  When he was a puppy.  THAT’S HOW I FEEL.

Still smiling, though.  This is crazier than Christmas Eve.


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