F*ck yeah!

...... I'm a homeowner.


After the self-serve walk-through yesterday, I headed for the closing, again alone, because my realtor couldn't be bothered to show for that, either. It was me, my closing attorney, the seller, and the seller's closing attorney.

And let me just say this, the seller was a great big sweetie. Gave me all kinds of helpful advice on the house (it takes an hour to mow the lawn!), and was just a very nice guy.

So! We're signing paperwork, lalala, and the seller's attorney mentions the school taxes, and how they were paid through the end of August, so the seller would get a month's worth back, and then the September bill, for the next year's school taxes, would go to me.

And it was like at the end of a scary movie where the hand reaches out of the grave, that one last twist. Because I was SURE that the school taxes were supposed to be included in my monthly mortgage payment, and here was this dude, implying that nononono, I'D be getting a bill for, oh, a thousand bucks or so, in just a few weeks.

Of course, he was wrong. The school taxes ARE included in the mortgage payment, and it's my BANK that will be receiving the bill, not me, and hahahahaha just a little misunderstanding.



I think I died a little right there. I think my heart stopped for a brief period of time. Thanks for one last thrill, motherf*ckers!

Coming soon: The process server shows up at my apartment with an eviction notice! And then, while I'm on the phone with my sister ripping the realtor a new one, talking loudly, with all of my windows wide open ....... the realtor shows up at my apartment! Looking for a pat on the head, evidently, oh, and also to strongly ...... um ...... encourage me to get the hell out of my apartment ahead of schedule. News flash: No means no, amigo.





It's like the never-ending story around here, people!