But did these funds come from El Chapo?
A few words of advice to anyone looking to purchase a home:
1. Don’t do it.
2. Okay, do it but be prepared for a whole lot of aggravation.
So, full disclosure: my finances were a mess when I was (much) younger.
Open a credit card for a free crappy t-shirt I’ll never wear? Sure! I’m a college freshman who literally turned 18 just yesterday, but upon no consideration at all, I feel I’m fiscally and personally mature enough to handle this responsibility. I see no problem with you, credit card company, setting up shop in the cafeteria of my college campus. That’s shady, in no way. Sign me up!
This admitted lapse of judgement coincided with my newfound discovery of a little band called Fleetwood Mac. With my brand new credit card in hand, I drove my rusted out ‘86 Chevy Blazer directly to Media Play and purchased any and all items inside the building that had the words “Fleetwood” and “Mac” on them. I even asked an employee for help to make sure I got it all.
When the credit card bill arrived in the mail the next month, I opened up the envelope, flattened out the papers inside, and then just stared at the large number underneath “Current Balance” with more than a little befuddlement.
They don’t need me to pay this thing every month, right?
My financial irresponsibility continued through college and then on into grad school when I signed on the dotted line for hefty student loans for a Master’s degree I didn’t want in a major I didn’t like.
I was working as a full-time teacher while still living at home with my parents. There were times I forgot to pick up my paycheck on Friday afternoon because I was so flush with cash.
Still, when I found out how much money the “student loan people” were willing to “give” me per semester, thousands more than my tuition, I checked the box next to “gimme the maximum amount” and went on one hell of a shopping spree.
To this day, I have no idea what I bought. More CDs, I’m sure. Vinyl records, I’ll bet. I have boxes full of VHS tapes in my basement that were definitely a sound financial decision.
I have a very vivid memory of me buying the not-available-in-any-stores Buckingham Nicks album on CD from a stranger from a sketchy AOL chatroom. Today, we hit a few buttons in the Uber app and hop into a stranger’s car without a second thought, but you didn’t give your home address out to strangers on the internet back then. You definitely didn’t do that if you were my mom. She was not happy with me.
Fleetwood Mac: Steadily Testing My Common Sense Since 1997.
Fast-forwarding through a decade of sheer financial (and personal, but that’s a post for another time) irresponsibly here …………
By my late-20s, I finally caught on to the importance of paying your bills, and on time, and so by 30, my credit score was out of the poor range and floating comfortably in the middle of fair. By 35, my score was good. Last year, my credit rating soared on up into the excellent range.
I haven’t missed a bill or paid a bill late in over a decade. My credit score is phenomenal. I’m the picture of fiscal health and responsibility, and I’ve been steadily employed in a job that pays me well for going on 15 years.
So, when my dream house (literally, this is the only house I want) went up on the market in October, I thought it was time for me to give home ownership a try. After all, with my credit score, banks will be begging me to take their money.
And the bank was. I sailed through pre-qualification like a shot from Abby Wambach past the keeper.
The underwriter, however? The underwriter on my file seems to think that all of my money is ill-gotten from all that time I’ve spent in Vegas? and that I’m also hiding high-interest loans from El Chapo in possibly the Cayman Islands?
I’ve read the underwriting process can be grueling but I’ve never felt more like a criminal than I do right now. And I’ve felt like a criminal lots.
I’m waiting for a request for a sample of my blood next, then a lock of my hair, some skin cells, and also the rights to my first-born child, LOL JOKE’S ON YOU GUYS HA HA.
The good news: On Monday, after almost two months, I finally received verbal approval on a mortgage. Yay!
But Google tells me it’s not over yet...
When you’re me and overthink everything, Google is not your friend during a time like this.
Google tells me nothing is set in stone until you’ve closed on the house and have the keys in hand and maybe not even then.
With every purchase I’ve made over these last two months, I’ve wondered if this is what will do it. Will this Claritin D and box of tampons be what ultimately tanks my mortgage?
Stay tuned…
