Yesterday T (sounds better than constantly referring to him as “Husband”, especially since his name starts with a T.. although that makes us T and A… anyway…) got a call from one of the secretaries from the mortgage broker’s office. When he called me at work to tell me they called my heart about fell out of my chest. It’s been two weeks now since we signed the application. The appraiser has come and gone. Apparently he was only at the property for about 30 seconds, but I guess that’s how long it takes to judge the value of a plot of land… So we’ve been waiting on bated breath to hear what the outcome is. I sat for weeks collecting every piece of paperwork I thought they might need — credit reports, pay stubs, deeds, bank statements, letters about T’s business, W-2s, estimates, a million copies of taxes, house plans, SAT scores, and blood test results. I knew it would be by the skin of our teeth that we’d get approved so I was beginning to think I should promise my first-born if we got the loan.
So she calls up T and proclaims that she doesn’t have plans for the second floor. Well, lady, there are no plans for a second floor. T explained that the upstairs would be unfinished and we would frame it in and do bedrooms later down the road. For those of you just catching up, we’re cheap bastards and are doing a one bedroom cape with an unfinished upstairs to be finished at a later date (and when we’re not robbing Peter to pay Paul) by the ever so handy T. So she said “oh.” Which I can assume, even though I had no part in this discussion, was one of those depressed sounding, I see you suck at life type of oh’s. “So you’ll have a couple of rooms upstairs.” “Oh no,” T proclaimed, “there will be three bedrooms and a full bathroom(and an office) upstairs, we’re just doing it later.” This time she said, “Oh!” In what I would think was one of those oh, I’m very surprised at your response and you almost outsmarted me type of oh’s. “That sounds like it will be a big house then!”
So basically what this means is that the slightly on the high side (though in a decent market it would be normal and easily doable) finished value that we had to hit to be approved, has now just dropped about $80,000. However, we will probably have a difficult time finding a reasonable comparable. I don’t know who else has brand new one bedroom capes on seven acres floating around, but hopefully there is something and they can get a reasonable appraisal done. Unfortunately, she explained to T this might mean a higher interest rate. So of course I asked T was that meant and he said maybe a half a percent, which is a lot, but I guess it could be worse. Or T could have totally made this up as to not have me go completely ape shit while on the phone at work. So secretary lady is reporting this back to the broker (who I thought knew all of this after three meetings and what I thought was a meticulous letter I wrote explaining the estimates and so on. I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and assume it’s the bank.).
Do I have an answer yet? No. When will I get an answer? I don’t know. Is it making me completely insane? Yes. I hate waiting on answers. I wish they had a fast track for mortgages. I made such an organized folder of all of our paperwork and information, all paperclipped in sections of like items. Doesn’t that count for anything? He said we could, or maybe he even said should, know in a couple of weeks. Well it’s been a couple! We signed our life away, played nice with the appraiser, what is taking these damn underwriter’s so long! There will be plenty of equity left in the property and it will only increase in value since A) we’re putting like four more rooms upstairs, B) T is a stone mason and landscaper so it will look pretty outside, and C) because I said so. Oh, and other practical things like a front porch and back deck will be added. And maybe a petting zoo. Ok, now I’m just being ridiculous. But T does say I can have horses there. Where, I don’t know, especially since I want to board them anyway, but now I’m getting totally off topic.
I am getting tired of waiting though. Every day, all day I get people coming up to me at work asking about the house and how it’s going and all I can respond with is that we’re waiting. I want to tell people, “Oh yes, wonderfully, we’re moving in next month!” Perhaps I could buy some Mega Millions tickets and win and then I wouldn’t have to worry about waiting for some silly underwriters. But in all seriousness, I’m ready. I want to get out of this basement. I want to start our life and move on and up and have a real home. And spend loads of money on new furniture and other housey things. Hopefully Monday will bring us a happy phone call.