Think about that.  Packing is NEVER a good word.  Large wound?  Fill it with packing.  Scary dude?  Bet he’s packing.  Getting older?  Pounds come packing.  Just the word is enough to make one shudder.  Actually PACKING is even worse.

The divorce was final in 2009.  This will be my third move in six years.  MY THIRD MOVE IN SIX YEARS.  Isn’t that hideous?!  The first move, in 2010, was probably the worst:  downsizing from a 4 bedroom, 2.5 bath house to a 2 bedroom, 1 bath duplex.  With a seven year old and a nine year old.  While in nursing school.  In the middle of final exams.  While also working 20-30 hours/week as a server.  That was brutal.  The good news is that the move was less than a mile away.  The bad news was that trying to fit a whole house into a small duplex is ugly business!

My second move was three years ago.  We moved from my hometown to a neighboring one.  Another duplex, but this time a duplex shared with my sister, her hubs, and their three kids.  Girls were older (still of absolutely no help, but older!).  In true Jen fashion, however, I had to do something to royally screw up the move:  what could be better than face-planting carrying THE FIRST round of boxes out of the house and  spraining my ankle?  Regular move?!  Pshaw!  Too easy!  Let’s move while maimed!  We moved in July/August from a place with central air to a place with no central air and a basement so wet that there was literally mold growing on the wall.  Yes, my judgement is clearly questionable.

This move has its own brand of hideousness attached.  The GREAT news is that now we’re buying:  we’re moving into a condo that I’m paying for all by myself.  We get to put down roots.  We get to have a real home that’s ours and we can  and make it our own.  The bad news is that now we’re buying.  Oh my Lord.  You know how people tell you and tell you about how awful/terrible/evil something is and you find out later that said something is really not so bad after all?  Well, that’s not the case when it comes to buying a house.  It’s awful/terrible/evil.  As I type, I’m supposed to be closing tomorrow, but I have yet to get a call from the Title Company.  Nor have I heard final numbers from my Mortgage Company.  I have the almost-final numbers, but, of course, they can’t be tied down to THOSE figures.  The final figures may or may not be the almost-final numbers.  You know, because that’s how mortgage brokers roll.

HOLD EVERYTHING, PEOPLE!  Except the vodka.  Don’t just hold the vodka.  Pour.  Pour quickly and pour generously.

Have you met me?  Could this go smoothly?  I think we both know the answer to that.

It’s September 8th.  I’m supposed to close today.  Only, I’m not.  And not only am I not, the mortgage gal isn’t quite sure it can even happen!  <insert chugging sound here>

Okay, brutal honesty time: When I got divorced, times was hard (I hope you read that sing-songing Sweeney Todd).  We declared bankruptcy and rolled the mortgage in there.  So of course that shows up in my credit history.  And OF COURSE I told initial mortgage guy this fact.  I wasn’t sure I was even qualified to buy so that was my number one disclosure out of the gate!  “Oh, it’s been long enough and you have a steady job and your credit since then has been good!” evil mortgage guy told me.  And stupid me believed him!  Believed him for the past six weeks as we’ve meandered–no, not meandered.  That’s too lovely a word–as we’ve trudged/plodded/slogged through this nightmare of the banking world.

I’m on my FOURTH Quicken Loans representative.  My fourth.  And she just came to me with this issue TODAY.  The day I’m supposed to close.  And this all transpired, of course, while I was extremely busy at work.  Because, you know, Murphy.  Jackass Murphy.

I wanted to have a lovely blog to wrap up all this hideousness.  Instead, I’m going to leave you high and dry just like I am.  It’s 8pm on the night I was supposed to close and I just spent the last hour looking up court docs and uploading/emailing/faxing them to QL.

It’s a wonder my liver is still standing.

To be continued …..