Do Not Pass Go, Do Not Collect $200, Go Straight to Jail

OK, so I have had some days that were weird, but this one's starting to take the cake. Started out innocently enough, just yet another busy Monday trying to juggle my job and a system update. Nothing I can't handle, despite my body feeling like it's been hit by a train (that's another story, which involves chasing a rabbit for 5 hours!)

Oh but wait, I'm trying to buy a house, too!

My innocent Monday was knocked off track by an email from Becky at my mortgage broker's office that stated "The appraiser noted a couple of things about the property that need to be taken care of before purchase. Since this is a HUD home I know they will not make any repairs. A toilet must be placed in the master bath and ceiling light fixtures set in the gameroom and bedrooms. Let me know if you can get these done, I'll have to send the appraiser back out to inspect after they are done."

I told Becky I was aware of the problems and they were first on my list of things to take care of upon closing. Because, let's face it, this isn't the 18th century, and you can't really live in a house without a toilet. Kind of makes things desperate. And the whole missing toilet thing leads to more questions like: "why on earth would someone take a toilet with them when the move out??" They also stripped out all the ceiling fans in the bedrooms. No sweat, at least not until summer.

Becky's email back to me wasn't that encouraging: "Yes, sorry the lender is very cautious about the condition of HUD homes, its a pain but they protect you and the investment into the property. The title company requires that I have the loan docs there about 5 days before closing and I won't be able to get those docs until I get the approval which is affected by the repairs.....yuck! Let me know so I can send him back out for inspection."

Okay. Sounds simple enough, right? Repairs=Funding. All I need to do is get HUD to allow me access to the property in order to make these few minor repairs and then my funding will be released and the sale can go through. Evidently my broker has actually encountered this type of thing before and had no problem being able to resolve it.

But wait, this is me we're talking about. I got on the phone with my agent, told them what was happening, and let Connie make the call to HUD and arrange all this. In the meantime, I got on the phone with my dad and asked him to help me take care of these things this weekend. Well, he's not really available because he's going turkey hunting (yet another story), but he could come "sometime" in the afternoon. Never mind that I need to schedule an exact time for my agent to meet us there in order to let us in.

Well, Dad gets to go turkey hunting after all and take as long as he wants to do it. Connie called me back after she spoke with someone at HUD, and left me a message because I was in yet another conference call regarding the system upgrade (yes, I still have to work despite trying to buy a house). Her voicemail had me laughing out loud based on the sheer madness of the information she relayed. To paraphrase: there is no way we can do that, because HUD does not make repairs, it is still government property and to attempt it would mean the loss of earnest money and property and prosecution for trespassing. If someone had ever told me that trying to purchase a home would offer me my first threat at jail time, I would have laughed in their face. Hell, I'm laughing right now!

Honestly, can nothing work smoothly in this lifetime? HUD did suggest that the money for the repairs be placed in escrow and a time limit of 30 days be given for the repairs to be made after closing. Well, seeing as how this sounds pretty reasonable to me (because hey, so did the first suggestion!) there's no way it will work out.

So here I sit, in the midst of a Catch-22: No repairs+no funding=no sale for HUD, who won't allow the repairs that will get me the funding. You'd think they'd bend a little in order to ensure the sale. I mean, there's no way I'm backing out once I've got money invested in the property. At this point in the day, Becky has a call in to the underwriter to see what they think about HUD's suggestion, so I likely won't hear an answer before tomorrow. I am resolving myself to letting them settle the matter.

Days like this are why God gave us Xanax.

Meet the Pe(s)ts

Now it's time for a segment I like to call: Meet the Pets.

This is Turtle. (aka Turtle Dove, T.K., Shi**head)

In this shot he is posing for the website stuffonmycat.com. Doesn't he look thrilled?

At the ripe old age of 16, he and I have been together longer than most married couples. And I think sometimes we get along just that well. Most times he yells when I'm late getting home, late feeding him, late getting out of bed to feed him, spend too much time in the bathroom, and these days he yells when Sam bugs him.

He became my roomie back in 1998 when my boss at the time moved and gave him and his brother Nick to me.

A few months ago he went blind in his right eye, so he sticks pretty close to the beaten path. No more wandering for this kitty!

This is Sam. (aka Sammy Sam Samminaminam, Samuel L. Catson, Samonella)

He came to live with us at Thanksgiving after moving onto my patio and refusing to leave. I tried to ignore him when he cried at the door. I refused to feed him no matter how much he begged. I even tossed him over the fence in my efforts to discourage him from sticking around, but he was going nowhere. Finally, my nephew broke the impasse when he simply pointed out that it was really cold outside and I really should let him in.

He hasn't gone back outside since. At least he came to me litter trained.

Not sure how old he is, but I would place him at no more than 2. He races around chasing and playing with anything he can get his paws on--especially any drinking vessel left on any flat surface. We're working on training to not touch those anymore after he dumped a glass of milk on the living room rug. And I have to remember to put such things in the sink before he can get to them. Other things he likes to do--wash his feet in the water bowl after using the litter box, play in the toilet, and race around yelling like a mad man. I think it's some sort of kitty war cry.

Last, but definitely not least, in the kitty department is Nickel. (aka Nick, Nicky, Nickelas Nickelby, Doodlebug, Fat Cat).

Nick is 12 and currently lives with my grandparents. He's a big 'ol Persian mix who--when he sits around the house, really sits around the house. He's a definite wanderer who simply cannot do well in an apartment. Hence the reason why he lives with the grandfolks. I think I have lost permanent custody of him as he has Granddad trained to do his bidding and he has their neighborhood wired to his liking. Based on his bulk, I would say he has several neighbors feeding him. He comes and goes as he pleases, and is just too much of a wanderer to stay inside all day, or survive the dangers of city living. Don't worry folks, he's neutered and up-to-date on his shots.

That's it for the cats. I never thought I would be in my 30s, single, and have 3 cats. Somebody put my name on the spinster wall!

I'll chat about the bunnies and how they came into my life in another post.