Now I must document the hell that was closing, in order to warn others to RENT! NO ONE NEEDS A HOUSE! JUST LIVE IN APARTMENTS!
Okay, only kidding. It was only two hours of hell, after all. Anyone can live through that, right? (It’s my real estate agent I feel really bad for, anyway.)
So here’s how it went:
Closing was scheduled for 10 am. Before we could go to the title company for the act of sale, we had to pick up our insurance papers from the insurance company. No big deal, we made it to the title company in plenty of time.
Besides the fact that I hadn’t heard from the title company with the final settlement amount (the total $$ we were to bring to the closing), everything seemed to be going well. My mom had assured me that the cashier’s check for $10,000 would more than cover everything. (Based on what the loan officer had told me.)
So we’re merrily signing, initialing, signing, and initialing our little hearts out when the attorney brings us the settlement statement thingy. With a figure of $12,979.
Gaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Hmmm. Well, I could write a hot check for $2,979. And basically I did. Called my mom, who screamed loud enough to make my ears bleed, but not at me, thankfully. She was extreeeeemely pissed off at our realtor, because of a referral fee that should have been deducted from our closing costs, blah blah blah. So in actuality we are borrowing about $2500 from my mom that needs to be paid back too. Blech. Thank god for my mom, though.
So in the end, we got the house. And after the closing, we went by my office so I could get weighed in while the WW leader was there (by the way, I lost 2.4 lbs last week for a grand total of 7.4 lbs) then to IHOP for lunch. (To gain back those 2.4 lbs, and to celebrate with Viva la French Toast.) Then to Target to buy a bathroom cabinet. Then to the house. But then back to Target because we picked up the wrong box.
Then back to the house. George’s parents came by to see the house, bearing gifts. Yay! A weeder for the yard, a houseplant, and a check. Woo! That’ll pay for the paint and a ladder and a few other necessities. After they checked out the house, we all trooped over to the pub for beer and pizza. My first real pizza since I started Weight Watchers. Worth every point.
After George’s parents left, the two of us went back to the house and split the bottle of champagne my work friends gave me while sitting on our porch swing.
And then, though it probably wasn’t the best idea, we put together one of the cabinets from Target. Mostly.
Tomorrow, I paint. And move.