Another Scare

I got a call from our mortgage broker yesterday afternoon. She had a strong note of pity in her voice when she told me that our debt to credit ratio was high and that she needed the approval of another loan officer before she could process the loan. I asked straight out what my chances were and the hint of pity thickened.... she didn't want to imply either way.

I had just spent the afternoon online with the IRS registering an EIN (Employer Identification Number). I spoke with a rep from Comcast about transferring wifi service to my name. I was in the middle of looking at logo designs with my friend (who has Great Big Graphics) when the mortgage broker called. And the logo was soooo nice. There I was, sitting on that wrap around porch, totally visualizing that three dimensional sign hanging in front of the building, and all I kept thinking was.... "But I need this sign..."

I came home with another nervous bellyache, drank a couple glasses of wine and dove into Harry Potter.... figuring there was really nothing else I could do except wait for the call in the morning. Except I ended up calling the mortgage broker five minutes after the bank opened this morning and gave her a small but valid list of all the reasons why they should really approve the loan. I did my best to sound casually desperate.

I was doing my best to not plunge into a potential but possibly unncecessary depression about about the whole thing. There was a list of papers to sign and fax and calls to make but I couldn't summon myself to any of it without knowing, for sure, that the shop was actually going to be mine in a week. I couldn't stomach the thought of going to the current owner with shitty news.

So I crawled back into bed with a sleeping Ella and my Harry Potter book and into the alternate reality of the Deathly Hallows until my cell phone rang and buzzed itself off the nightstand and onto the floor.

I woke Ella up with my happy cheers, made a closing date for this Thursday at 11am and dragged her out of bed so I could head into town and start checking off the list.

My nerves cannot handle any more near misses.