*Takes a deep breath*
Here, in a few sentences is why you should never ever buy a house unless you rob a bank or win the lottery. The Thursday before the long fourth weekend the bank asks us for our transcripts without saying just why they want them.
Fine, we bend over backwards and do everything we can to get it to them in time eyeballing the final count down to close. Last night we get a call from the bank, what they wanted out of our transcripts is our work history. Because colleges are notorious for including everywhere you worked after you graduated on your school transcripts. *headdesk*
If they'd have just told us what they wanted instead of acting all coy I could have gotten them their information last Thursday. But no, they had to keep it secret and make sure the left hand had no idea what the right was doing so my husband and I will break out in ulcers.
To add more kindling to the flame, I actually know the person who processed my information to them the first time. She's the mother of my old roommate who I saw at a fourth of July BBQ, so I know that they actually got all the information they claim they need a month ago.
If you're going to be a loan officer you don't have to do your job in any timely manner, you can just pretend you never got information you have sitting right in front of you, and if it all falls apart just blame the customer and take their money anyway.
I need some CPT! *Calls up CPT to send over a basket*
Just what is CPT? Why it's Cute Puppy Therapy:They arrive with a basket full of puppies that you hold and cuddle for a few hours til your neck veins stop throbbing and your blood pressure gets back into high flow throughput range.
Puppies make everything better. Someone really needs to start up CPT, if only for all our stress levels. I may be bringing you puppy pictures for the rest of the week til we close just to keep me sane, so word of warning I guess.
Can this week get any worse? Really? I'm asking so I can prepare, because after attending a funeral and having the loan people jerk our strings more for their amusement I can't imagine how.