No word yet from Lender Number Two. In fact, no word yet from our mortgage broker or her colleague. For, let's see--going on 32 hours now. We put together our letters explaining why our 2008 tax filing was so late (in sum: documents still in boxes, our bank --we'll call them BOSA--holding up our safe deposit box in LA, and, since we didn't owe but rather had a sizable refund coming we just plain didn't focus as soon as we should have on getting it together), and why we missed mortgage payments on the ski condo we ecstatically bought three weeks before the relocation was announced. On that one, something interesting: we figured that when our mortgage lender, we'll call them Countywise, was acquired by BOSA, they messed up our billing the first month. Correct: we have no statement for that month. We couldn't figure out how we managed to miss another payment later on, though, and figured we must have somehow missed a bill in the course of the move. Not so correct. On reviewing all of our records and BOSAs transcripts of the loan, it turns out BOSA adopts a billing system pretty much designed to result in default if you miss a payment.
In our case, our payment was due on the 5th of the month. BOSA sent its statement on the 2nd of month one --and on the 28th! of month two. So we'd get a statement either day before or on the day that our payment was due, and the next statement nearly TWO MONTHS later! No 15 or 30 days past due notice if you miss a payment: your next statement comes a day or two before you are in 60 day default. In our case, our attempts to set up automatic payments through our bank (would you believe, also BOSA?) had failed, but we didn't know that. We got a statement on July 2 that we thought we paid online. Then we moved to Virginia. The very next statement was dated August 28--so it came while we were on vacation in the first week of September. When we got back after Labor Day, we picked up a stack of mail at the post office that contained not only the first statement that showed a missed payment, but a notice of default and acceleration. Credit rating trashed. Thank you so very much, BOSA, our bank of 20 years.
Oh--did I mention the name of Lender Number One who backed out on our loan three days before closing last week? Why, yes, yes it was BOSA. Really hope Lender Number Two says yes so we can move our accounts there immediately--otherwise we may have to spend a week thinking about where to put the money we're definitely taking out of BOSA.
OK--so enough of anger, spite and self-justification. The fact remains that we can only blame BOSA/Countywise for the fact that they trashed our credit rating and made our loan rate higher, and even then we can really only partially blame them. We missed the payments; they set up the system to make that likely, but not necessarily inevitable. We're in this position of having NO loan (rather than just an overpriced one) not because of mortgage payments, but because we didn't get our act together and file our tax return anywhere close to the deadline. A completely self-inflicted wound. Lender Number Two may be willing to close without the tax transcript that won't be available for a month if our explanations are clear enough. We've explained. They'll read, they'll decide. Nothing to do now but wait.
So, how to wait productively and without driving my friends crazy? (Going on 33 hours of silence now.) I should say up front that the laundry is done and I can't bring myself to cook, because my stomach still hurts and because I don't like being a housewife to begin with and it isn't improving my mood one bit. So what to do that helps somehow? Writing, obviously, a given whether it helps anybody or not.
Well, forward planning/design daydreaming/furniture shopping on Craigslist is right out. Can't imagine tempting fate any further with that stuff. Rehashing is done and, reading it over, boring as well as unproductive. So, what is there to do in the here and now, that acknowledges the lesson from yesterday that it's us and not the house that counts in the end? One, go out on the deck and admire the backyard. It's gorgeous at the rental house right now--the trees have fully leafed and what was a bunch of gray sticks in the air three weeks ago is a complete canopy of green. Azaleas are busting out all over in pink and fuchsia and red and white, and something pale lavender that is maybe rhododendron? Beautiful, sunny, temperate spring day. Ah.
Two, what if anything can I do to make sure that nothing further goes wrong? Pay bills. Check. Three, go through all the crap downstairs and sort it for sale, donation, trash and "actually to be moved with us whenever and wherever that may be." Doesn't count as planning for moving to THE house, because the downstairs is overwhelmed with junk we move to get to stuff we need, and at the very least this has to be done before our lease here is up, house or no house. Sounds mindless and time-consuming. In fact, sounds perfect.
Okay. Three and a half hours of sorting and I feel like I've done something worthwhile for our current comfort (more space), for society (lots of donations and recycling), and for whatever comes next (five boxes eliminated, only 24 more to sort). I can wait; I now have a mission. I'm so lame, and I'm such a liar. 36 hours? Can that possibly not be bad news?
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