My plan on Wednesday was to march down to my realtor’s office on Walnut Street, sign away my life’s savings and get the key to my new house. I had an outfit planned and everything.
But that would have required my bank to have done their job properly. Ditto the seller. Ditto the listing agent. Ditto the bank appraiser.
Also, it would have been better if I hadn’t spent the past two months accidentally writing checks in an old checkbook that links to an account I no longer have…
Needless to say, I will not be closing on Wednesday.
In fact, I’m meeting my realtor as soon as my Anthropology 101 students finish taking their final exam to start looking at more houses.
I don’t want to look at more houses.
I don’t want to even consider other houses—I’ve found the one that I want and I want it—but my realtor said we need a “Plan B” just in case.
The main issue, as it stands now, is that house appraised for less—significantly less—than the purchase price and by “significantly less” I mean an entire digit less. It all comes down to a few minor holes in the kitchen, which I’m planning to renovate anyway, but without approval from the bank, there is no loan, and without a loan, there is no house.
So there you have it.
Is it too early for ice cream?