Sunday, March 2, 2014

closing time

Guess what? We're homeowners! I mean, we're indentured servants of the mortgage company for the next 30 years. But nevermind that.

Work was not bad last week--the families I worked with were super nice--but it did keep me busy enough that I never left even close to on-time. One of my patients was on the vent, had multiple gtts and TPN running, continuous CRRT (i.e. dialysis), a central line that required at least 3 sterile dressing changes per shift, and was going in and out of Afib with RVR. All that was manageable, but it made for a ton of charting when everything has to be documented down the cc/ml. Ugh. And the bedside computer was running as slow as molasses.

So, on closing day I barely got a cat nap in before we went to some attorney's office--Denis So-and-So, Douchebag at Law--to sign away our fortunes. Okay, maybe I shouldn't say that. I don't know him well enough, and perhaps he is really a swell guy. 

But first impressions were:
1) Condescension 
2) Baritone voice with a polished Southern accent. Think of the judge from My Cousin Vinny.
3) Political naivety. "I don't care if the government reads every email of mine and hears every word on my cell phone if it helps catch even a single bad guy." 

You mean the same government that can't balance its own checkbook? You trust those guys? You know what they did to the Japanese Americans not so long ago? I hope you can keep your optimism when you're lucky enough to be sent to the next desert internment camp. 

And he had some problem with my signature and wanted me to sign it a very specific way (different from "my" signature signature) on every one of the hundred pieces of loan papers. Nevermind that his own signature as well as Ryan's were both illegible. Somehow mine was the problem. So I thought "two can play this game" and took my sweet time reading and signing every sheet as carefully as a third grader in penmanship class. Heck, our closing costs included a $500 fee for this guy's office services, so I figured I'd milk it for all it was worth.

Regardless, in the end the individual who profited the most was not Denis the Menace but the lady who sold us the house. She seemed like a really nice person, and we were glad to do business with her despite the disorganization of our loan broker or the scowls of the real estate lawyer.

And we drove away with the keys : )


  1. congratulations! our title agent made me go back through all the paperwork and add my middle initial to all of my signatures. you would think they would think of these things in advance...


    1. Ha! I forgot about that. But he was def'ly condescending. And then he misread the sheet showing how much our monthly payment would be. He seemed annoyed that we expected a lower number, until he finally figured out he was reading it wrong.

      Too funny about your signature. I don't get it.

      But anyway, you'll never have to deal w/ him again. and now the house is yours! Can't wait to see it!!!

  2. Ugh! Sounds grating. Buuuuuut can't wait to see the place!

  3. Hi Elizabeth! I'm Heather and I was wondering if you could answer my question about your blog! My email is Lifesabanquet1(at)gmail(dot)com :-)