But At Least There's A Happy Ending

Yesterday wasn't the best of days.  It started out all quiet and unassuming, and with an impression of, "Never mind me, I'm just your average warm, sunny, middle of Spring Break sort of day."  I was lulled into a false sense of security as I dressed the kids, made a few getting-the-house related phone calls (we have to have the house termite bonded before we can close), and made a box of macaroni and cheese for lunch.

And then with one phone call, things started really unraveling.  Hubby was working on 30 pages worth of paperwork that needed to be filed by the end of the day when he came across some interesting news.  (Background story: the guy we were working with at the mortgage place left that office for a job with another company.  He tried to take our file with him, but they wouldn't let him take it.  So we're with the same mortgage company, but working with another person, now.)  Our (locked-in, mind you) interest rate and estimated payments had gone up.  Way up.  Our interest rate, by almost a whole percentage point, and our estimated payments by about $150/month.  Which, with me being STILL unemployed, pushed us right over the top from "it'll be tight but we'll be able to just scrape by until I get a job," to "snowball's chance in hell that we can make this work."  Now, mind you, after over three months of work to get this house, we're a week away from closing day.  Just to be slapped with the decision between sucking it up and walking away.  So Hubby called the guy we were originally working with and asked if he knew what was up with all the changes since he left.  Since he's not our mortgage guy anymore, obviously there wasn't anything he could do about it, but he did confirm that those numbers were nowhere close to the numbers we were supposed to have.  So Hubby called the mortgage place and explained that either we needed to go back to the numbers we were supposed to have, or, painful and disappointing as it might be, we were going to have to walk away.  Suddenly, the mortgage place "realized" that they "must have given him the wrong paperwork."  (This is an understandable mistake, really.  I mean, Hubby's name is fairly common, so it's not too awful much of a stretch to believe that someone with his exact same name, social security number, etc., is buying a house at the exact same address as we are, just at a higher interest rate and with an estimated higher monthly payment... I mean, those things happen, right?)

So Hubby had to drive over to the mortgage place and sign all new paperwork.  Happy Ending: Our interest rate is back down to the rate that the other guy locked in for us.  Our payments are still a little bit higher than the first estimation, but thankfully, they're back down in the "it'll be tight but we'll be able to just scrape by until I get a job" range.  (We'll probably just have to cancel the internet/reduce the monthly minutes on our cell phones to make up the difference.)

So, the day started off wonderfully, took an awful, dangerous nose-dive in the middle, and leveled out a bit at the end.  I'll be glad when everything is finished-- the closing, the moving, and the job-hunting.  It will be nice to heave a great sigh of relief!