The Cut Me a Motherfucking Break Edition

I got a callback about HGTV’s My First Place yesterday.  Today, my realtor e-mailed me to say he’d spoken with her, as well.  “She adores you!  She adores me, too!”  And Graham texted to say she’d gotten in touch with him.  Now it’s up to me to tell her when I get my preapproval.

As I mentioned, I was turned down for my first request.  Apparently there’s a 7-year-old judgment for $300 dollars at an apartment complex I lived in when I was 21.  I have no idea why it’s there; rent was never late and we produced military orders to break the lease.  I was also never notified that it had gone to judgment, which is why I’m disputing it.

From what I’ve been told about infertility, it sounds a lot like house hunting.  When you want a baby, everyone else seems to have one.  When you want a house, everyone else seems to have one, too.

It’s just so frustrating, you know?  It’s frustrating to be denied something when you’ve worked really, really, really hard to have it.  It’s especially frustrating when other people who are far less qualified than you can get it and you can’t.  Maybe they have a shitload of current credit card debt that hasn’t been reported yet, or maybe they had a co-signer, or maybe they’ve spent the last 10 years living with their parents instead of paying rent.  I don’t fucking know.  What I do know is that buying a house is stressful enough, and that even one bank telling me I’m not a smart choice for a loan – despite my 7 years of good credit, decent job, and amount in checking that causes bank tellers to ask me why I don’t open multiple savings accounts, already – is not what I need right now.

Come on.  Give me this loan.  Let me buy my house.  Quit giving out all the chances to assholes like my ex-husband, or slumlords who don’t give a shit about their properties, or people who believe in paying utility bills with credit cards and leasing brand new cars when their old ones are just as good.  COME THE EFF ON, lending institutions!  Or hey, how about let me make a presentation!  I’m funny!  I know basic PowerPoint!  I’ll even let you talk to my boyfriend, because that poor bastard has been listening to me worry about getting a house for the past year and a half!

(So, um, if you happen to know anyone who is allowed to make decisions within a lending institution, please let me know.  Before I contact them, also please tell them I’m awesome.  Thank you.)

Please.  Pleeeeeeeaaaase.  Don’t make me give up on this.  I’m not cut out to be a perpetual renter, and I just can’t make myself believe that a trailer is a real home.  Those things don’t have basements, and tornadoes are serious.

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About erineph

I'm Erin. I have tattoos and more than one cat. I am an office drone, a music writer, and an erstwhile bartender. I am a cook in the bedroom and a whore in the kitchen. Things I enjoy include but are not limited to zombies, burritos, Cthulhu, Kurt Vonnegut, Keith Richards, accordions, perfumery, and wearing fat pants in the privacy of my own home.
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