how anti-climatic

Our closing time for the past month has been Friday, August 12th at 10:00am.

Well, it was Thursday night and they still hadn't told me the exact amount of money that I needed to wire.

As frustrated as I've ever been, I went to the Tim McGraw concert and drank my face off.

The next morning, I rolled out of bed, grabbed my Gatorade and at 9:00am I parked my butt in a chair at my bank.

The money was successfully wired.

Not the exact amount, but a ballpark figure.

10:00am, my closing time, came and went.... with my blood boiling while laying on my couch with Cali.

My mortgage company still had not gotten the closing documents to the attorney processing the close.

From what I understand, the attorney normally receives this paperwork 1-2 days in advance.

Never the same day when closing is scheduled for 10:00am.

The e-mails that were flying back and forth were getting nasty.

I was cc'ed.

Everyone was flipping out on our mortgage company who are clearly a-holes.

If the attorney didn't have documents in their possession by 11:00am, I could close later in the day but they could not give me the keys to our brand new home.

Eventually I noticed a lull in the e-mails.

Turned out my real estate agent decided it was best to keep me out of the loop for a little while.

This was a good thing because I was in straight up panic mode, as 11:00 o'clock was quickly approaching.

Well, 11:00am blew by and I freaked out.

We weren't getting the keys!

At this point I began to be copied on e-mails again, as everyone was scrambling trying to figure out how this was going to go down.

Finally, at noon, the documents were sent from our mortgage company to the attorney.

Noon.

2 hours after our set closing time.

Noon. The time that I should have been done closing!

My realtor called me and told me that it would be wise for me to begin making phones calls to push back our move, which was scheduled for tomorrow, Sunday.

Ugh!!

So frustrated and exhausted, I reluctantly did just that -- I pushed back our move.

2:45pm rolls around and I finally get an e-mail from my real estate agent saying "it's time" -- the attorney is ready for us at 3:30pm.

I quickly change into something presentable, take Cali out to go potty and hop in the car.

I then realize I don't have an effing gps -- Bryan has it with him in NYC.

@!$* !!!!!!!!

Seriously?

So I try to calmly activate my droid navigation.

Failing every time.

I'm completely lost downtown with no cell signal, which means no navigation.

After getting signal back and placing multiple phone calls to our real estate agent, I find my way to the Wells Fargo building, grab my visitors pass and take the oh.so fancy elevator to the 26th floor.

Waiting for me is just who I want to see - my real estate agent.

We walked into an empty room, I saw my file and this incredible view.

I breathed a sigh of relief and listened to my realtor and the attorney bitch about my loan agents.

This was comforting, so I joined in.

We all voiced our frustrations and seemed to have paralleled stories with this mortgage company and the way they handle business.

My real estate agent said "I've seen lag at the end and a lot of last minute documents, but nothing ever as bad as this."

Then the attorney chimed in and said "I've been an attorney for 20 years. This is the worst case I've encountered with a mortgage company."

I was in shock.

I just experienced the worst case?

I mean, I knew it was bad, but everyone and their mother was telling me it's always bad as you near closing.

My gut told me most people don't experience what I did and these fine ladies just validated my

gut... and it felt so good to be validated!

They continued to tell me that if I ever purchase a home again, it will run so much more smoothly than this has.

I told them I never was purchasing another home ever.

They told me the worst was over.

We then had several good laughs.

I was on fire.

No joke.

I'm not sure when I became so funny, but boy was I on a roll.

I found the whole "signing your life away" part to be a piece of cake.

I really thought there would be more documents than there were.

I was Bryan's Power of Attorney, so I had to sign his name as

"Bryan G@!!&% by Kaitlyn D H@^@&@^, Attorney in Fact"

every single time.

That got old fast.

But I like being his "Attorney in Fact."

Once said and done, I shook about 4 peoples hands and left with all of my closing documents.

Yep.

It's true.

I left without keys.

Keys to the house we built.

Keys to our future.

They couldn't give them to me, as the documents were signed after 1:00pm, and 1:00pm is the cut off for getting the title switched.

And because it was a Friday and they need to wait for the courthouse to open, we don't get our keys until Monday.

Monday!

Do you even understand all of the stress that ensues because of the 3 day delay?!

I've been traumatized by the closing process.

I mean, I've successfully closed and the house should be ours, but I don't even get "Yay, here are the keys to your 1st home" with me having a shit eating grin on my face like on all of the HGTV shows.

I got nothing but a whole lot of apologies.

I got to walk out with mounds of documents.

How anti-climatic.

Because we can't take possession of our home until Monday...

(1) I had to push back our move to Monday afternoon.

(2) I had to push back our UHaul rental to Tuesday morning.

(3) Bryan flies home from NYC today to help move, but oh wait - we aren't moving this weekend.

(4) My dad flies in tomorrow from CA to help move, but oh wait - we aren't moving this weekend!

Sooooooo...

What should have been an exciting, joy filled day was just about as shitty as I've described.

But trust me, living it is 10x shittier.

And on top of all of this stuff:

They were paving our streets this week so I had to shuffle cars constantly.

The hard part was remembering to shuffle the cars.

I'm packing!

Our apartment complex was "showing off" our apartment to the new owners.

The trash cans are sky high.

Cali keeps getting into the bathroom trash and ripping up every Kleenex she can find.

My car gas tank is on E.

I'm packing!

Every time I turn around Cali is stuck in the bathtub. WTF girlfriend! If you can get in, then you can get yourself out without crying for me to help.

We're starting a new job, so I've been filling out loads of time sensitive paperwork for myself and for Bryan because he's been unable to do it himself.

Oh, and my internet/Mac is faulty and I don't have a wireless connection because of it.

I have to stay hooked up to an ethernet cord.

Which means my wireless printer doesn't work.

So all of these documents and paperwork that need printed, signed and faxed back in a timely manner.... well, that's been a huge added stress!

Cali's officially punctured holes with her tiny teeth in my brand new Vicki's undies. Ruined. Ugh.

My dad's coming into town so sheets need to be washed.

Have I mentioned that I'm packing and moving?!!

Put me out of my misery please.

Oh brother, I just looked at the clock and it dawned on me "Kate, you have to pick Bryan up from the airport in 50 minutes."

I haven't showered, or blown my nose or eaten breakfast.

I'm exhausted and my mind is wiped clean.

I forgot my husband was coming home this morning and that I'm picking him up.

After this drive to and from the airport, I plan to spend the entire day in bed or on the couch.

I'm drained.

Physically, mentally and emotionally... drained.

It's a cool 73 degrees out and kinda drizzly.

Perfect day to hide from my worries while under the covers...