It’s my first post as a home-owner!
The events leading up to our settlement at eleven this morning were unexpected and rather ridiculous.
Actually, I’ve discovered that any adventure I am allowed to take charge of that involves both cars and big-ticket-purchases becomes ridiculous, regardless of the relative simplicity of its intended result.
Honestly, I don’t know how I do it. I choose to believe it’s the fault of my inner OCD Godzilla. What for most people would be a simple point-to-point drive with a check in hand he transforms into a travelling circus of oddities to satisfy all of his many obsessive requirements. I have no choice but to comply so that he remains sated, lest he begin to devour portions of my soul and gall bladder.
I feel the need to document the whole madcap venture while it’s still fresh and ridiculous-seeming – and while E can confirm that it is the god’s honest truth and I have not exaggerated a single word even a little.
4:30 AM: Wake up from what was intended to be a short nap before more packing.
4:45 AM: Undecided on what to eat for breakfast, I have two scoops of Target “Monster Cookie” ice cream. I later regret this decision.
5:00 AM: Not wanting to wake up E by packing, I decide to watch Inglorious Basterds to set a cut-throat tone for our take-no-prisoners home-buying.
7:00 AM: Wake E up by shredding junk mail too viciously (seriously, this was the noise that woke her up).
7:30 AM: Work myself into a frenzy about various settlement details. Write a post. Leave messages for my beleaguered Realtor and mortgage guy.
7:45 AM: Realize that I forgot to turn off a complicated set of auto-deductions connecting our byzantine series of banking accounts. Despite having more than enough money to buy a house and despite my OCD-Godzilla-driven careful pre-house-buying accounting, the renegade auto-deductions have quite suddenly put a few of our auxiliary house-buying escapades at risk for the next 24 hours – and not a very convenient 24 hours. Even though the money exists in plain sight in other accounts, there isn’t enough time for any transfers to clear before we cut our bank check for the house.
7:46 AM: Freak out.
7:47 AM: Marvel at the existential paradox of having personal worth.
7:48 AM: Freak out.
8:00 AM: Continue to freak out while showering and choosing an outfit for settlement (clearly a high priority in the house-buying process, just like blogging).
8:15 AM: Hatch a plan for reconciling the bank account issue that – while totally legal and using actual money belonging to us – could have the side effect of E being arrested. As a by-product of the plan, we suddenly have a vital need to count two large jars of change and hope they add up to a significant amount of cash.
9:15 AM: Park in a loading zone to visit first bank.
9:16 AM: Leave a lengthy and explicit note in the car’s windshield to explain when we arrived in the loading zone, why we were parked in the loading zone, when we’d depart the loading zone, and where we were located less than 20ft away from the loading zone in the event anyone felt the urge to have our car towed.
9:17 AM: Carry away two jars of change, each Molinjor-like in our seeming inability to dead-lift them off the ground without a Norse God-of-Thunder present to assist.
9:24 AM: Manage to avoid E being arrested at the bank, but discover it does not count change.
9:25 AM: Return to our car, still carrying the nearly-uncarryable change jars. Relieved to find the car intact.
9:55 AM: Visit the second bank. Rectify account balance disaster with a helpful teller. Discover the bank does not count change.
10:00 AM: Distract the teller from cutting us our certified check by all of the following means:
- informing her that a gallon of Einstein Bros. coffee includes a lethal dose of caffeine
- commenting on how her shirt exactly matches the color of the wall of the bank
- talking about PMS very loudly to each other
- explaining the Pantone Matching System (PMS), how PMS chips are sortof like paint chips, and how major brands frequently have a specific PMS color for their identity
- performing the entirety of The Turtles’ “Happy Together” in two part harmony
10:10 AM: Exit the bank under our own power before mall security is asked to escort us away, still carrying the mythic and increasingly-burdensome jars of change.
10:10 AM: Visit the third bank. Discover that they do count change, but their change-counting machine is presently being serviced.
10:15 AM: Glance nervously at our watches (okay, cell phones) ticking as the change-counting machine is serviced.
10:20 AM: Receive the all-clear to use the change-counting machine. Upon hefting the change jars over the machine (no easy feat), realize that their mouths are not wide enough to allow change to flow out freely.
10:21 AM: Desperately poke and jab the change out of our jars into the maw of the change-counting machine.
10:25 AM: Still clawing out change. Have now acquired several onlookers.
10:28 AM: Have now filled the change-counting machine to capacity with one now-slightly-less-mythic change jar still partially full. The machine makes funny cartoon broken-machine noises at us while we try to find a way to wedge the remaining change into its maw.
10:30 AM: The machine swallows all of our change and spits out a 90s-style SEPTA school token, several coins bearing Queen Elizabeth’s face, and a key to something (hopefully my fire safe, because how the hell else am I going to open it?).
10:35 AM: The change is more than double what we thought it would be! Crisis averted! We can buy a house and pay movers and not starve to death!
10:40 AM: Purchase over 32 ounces of caffeine from less-lethal Starbucks to celebrate and remain upright.
11:00 AM: Buy a house.
Okay, now I really have to pack.
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