Oh Lawd!

The day following our adventure with the real estate agent, I was nervous beyond belief. This was the day that the loan officer we had been referred to by our agent was going to call to get us rolling with preapproval. I don't think I've ever stared at my phone so much waiting on it to ring. Would she be nice? Would she seem indifferent to what was surely one of the biggest steps we have taken in our nine years together? I tried to stay busy and to keep my mind off of the pending call. I was just about to eat lunch when I jumped nearly out of my skin as my phone vibrated across my desk and rang. Oh Lawd! The number was not from one of my contacts. It had to be her. I took a deep breath and answered in the most positive and cheerful voice I could muster up. How relieved was I when the conversation began to feel like talking to an old friend. She was so nice as we talked about what loan programs were available as we decided that indeed, an FHA loan was the best solution. We spent several minutes going over my income, employment history, current rent payments, etc.

As I hung up the phone, my heart was racing. Would she really call back and give us the green light to proceed? I felt pretty comfortable with my credit rating, as I had just checked my report fairly recently. Still though, forever the pessimist, I began mentally preparing myself for the worst. Whatever you do Chuck, don't cry when she calls back and says there isn't anything she can do for you. I went through the afternoon without jumping out of my skin from the phone ringing. I wandered the grocery store after work, increasingly becoming more certain that this wasn't going to work out. If it was a sure thing, she certainly would have called back by now. I came home and put groceries away, right angrily in fact. After slinging food into the refrigerator and slamming the door shut, I walked out of the kitchen and literally froze when I noticed the missed call on my phone. Was it her? Most likely not. The number didn't match the call from earlier in the day and there was no indication of a waiting voice mail message. Surely she would have left a message had it been her. As I plopped down onto the couch, I bitterly punched the buttons on the remote. After Matt got home, it was probably ten minutes or so before he noticed an email on his phone from our agent. He began reading it aloud. I nearly fell on the floor. "Hey guys, I'm sure you know this by now, but we are good to go. Lets set up a time to write a contract and make the offer". What???? How could this be? I hastily grabbed my phone and looked again. Still no voice mail indicator. Could it be that of all calls, this was the one where my phone decided it would keep the fact I had a new message a secret? I immediately began to manually dial into my voice mail before I realized I had forgotten how! Damn relying on those buttons and touch screens to do the thinking for me. I finally got in and listened as sure enough, a message from the loan officer played, congratulating me on the automated underwriting system approving me for a mortgage. The weight I had been carrying around on my shoulders for the past twenty-four hours began to lift. Within five minutes, we had an appointment set with our agent for 8am the next morning to write the contract and submit an offer!