Minimum Day

Current mood: panicked

Today was a Minimum Day. That means the kids get to leave at 11:30, but the teachers are in meetings until 3:30. Yip. Pee. What. Fun. Actually, our principal is a pretty understanding guy and didn't schedule the meeting until 1:30. I thought I would get a couple of hours to make a dent in the stack of essays I have to correct before final semester grades are due on Tuesday. Oh, if only it were thus.

As I was eating lunch, I missed a panicked phone call on my cellphone from Dirk, the mortgage broker. As I listened to the message, I realize that he is saying I didn't give the lender any documents verifying that I have several thousand dollars in my retirement account and could I fax it immediately, etc. Well, first of all, no one ever asked me to send them that documentation. Second of all, remember that missing November statement? Since I never did find it, I decided that a smart thing to do would be to include some documents verifying that I have several thousand dollars in my retirement account (repetition intentional). How's that for prescience?! YET, EVEN THOUGH IT WAS IN THE SAME ENVELOPE AS ALL THE OTHER DOCUMENTATION, THESE GUYS COULDN'T FIGURE OUT WHAT THE FUCK IT WAS AND HAD TO CALL ME? Sheesh, who am I dealing with?

Anyway, although I called Dirk back within 15 minutes of his message, there was no answer. Since I was at work, I didn't have anyone's phone number with me. Try the Internet, I thought. Nice thought, but the main headquarters of the lending company had no record of Dirk. They had a record of Dirk's boss, Don, but all I got when I called Don was voicemail hell.

The call about the money I had in my retirement account reminded me that I hadn't received the check from the investment company. I wanted to call Wendy, my financial advisor, but didn't have her number with me, either. A search through the Internet, a call to my credit union headquarters, a transfer to my branch, a transfer to Wendy, a call to my investment company, a transfer to an account rep, an interminable amount of time on hold and, finally, A PERSON TELLING ME THAT MY CHECK WOULDN'T ARRIVE UNTIL WEDNESDAY! What the...?!??!?!? I only have $6,000. I have to come up with $8,440. In cash. Tomorrow. I'm so dead.

Meanwhile, with my classroom phone in one hand, talking to my investment company, and my cellphone in the other, dialing and redialing Dirk, I try not to implode. Halleluiah, Dirk picks up! I tell him that the retirement account statement is in the same envelope as the other documentation. Fine. Then he tells me that, due to the HOA on the condo being $50 more per month than originally stated when the loan was approved, I was going be charged an additional $330 in "points"!

Needless to say, I didn't really get much grading done. It was 1:30 before I knew it. I spent the entire meeting looking anxiously at my cellphone, daring it to ring with more bad news.

Once the meeting was over, I lugged my bulging briefcase home and then promptly ignored it while I watched Ellen and Oprah. Then Realtor Andy called. "Did you get the papers?" he asked. "Yeah, got 'em right here," I smoothly replied, quickly grabbing the thick FedEx envelope that I had been ignoring for the past hour off the coffee table. "Any questions?" queried Andy. "No, no, I think it's all pretty straightforward," I responded.

Later on, I opened the envelope. Gawd help me! There are about 50 pages of legal documents in there! Several of which have to be notarized! Today is Friday! It's 5:30 p.m.! How am I going to get these papers signed, notarized, faxed, copied, and enclose a cashier's check for money I do not have on a SATURDAY? I fuckin' suck!

I called my credit card company to see if I can get a "balance transfer". Sure, they said. It will take five business days. Shit! Shit! Shit! The nice woman at the credit card company hears the desperation in my voice and offers "You could always go to any bank and get a cash advance. You'd pay a 4 percent penalty, though."

I truly don't know what to do. I have the money. It just won't be there by tomorrow. Wanna know the REALLY ironic thing? I get paid on Monday. I am so screwed. I'm waiting for Chuy to come home. I am hoping that he loves me a LOT because I think I am about to ask him for a $3,000 loan to buy something that he thinks I am crazy to buy. Maybe I am crazy. I certainly feel like I'm going crazy!