numbers
Being poor - or most specifically being terrible with what money and/or credit you have - is evidently a license for businesses to treat you like shit. It seems if you have a less than perfect credit report then you're no longer human.
We needed to renegotiate our mortgage, we're at the end of its term. We were hoping to incorporate a rather high-interest loan into the mortgage. We have lots of equity in the house, and have never missed or been late on a mortgage payment. Didn't matter a whit to the bank. The person we saw jerked us around FOR AN ENTIRE MONTH then said that the bank wouldn't do it and referred us (well really sent all of our information to without telling us) to a mortgage broker friend of his. It's just gone downhill since then. I won't bore you with the details but we first set foot in the bank on May 1st and we finally signed with a trust company (at a ridiculous interest rate) today. We forked out $267 for an appraisal that took more than 2 weeks to complete, $1000+ for a lawyer we never - not once - even saw (everything was done by his assistant, who was frankly a few monkeys short of a barrel "What's this 'CAPONE' on your credit report?" "It's short for CAPital ONE" "No, it says CAPONE, is that Italian" "Yes, we're in the mob [insert eye rolling]") a whopping $4500 "application fee" to the trust company and close to $1000 in other fees to various other places.
I am sick to death of the bullshit. I'm sick of being nothing more than a number. It occurs to me that the few things I truly care about are portable, why do I stay in this house/city/country anyway? The temptation to drop everything, to walk away from the nonsense, from the stress, from the heartache - to just take my little family and go someplace far away and start over again - well it's nearly overwhelming. It's a child's fantasy I know.
We needed to renegotiate our mortgage, we're at the end of its term. We were hoping to incorporate a rather high-interest loan into the mortgage. We have lots of equity in the house, and have never missed or been late on a mortgage payment. Didn't matter a whit to the bank. The person we saw jerked us around FOR AN ENTIRE MONTH then said that the bank wouldn't do it and referred us (well really sent all of our information to without telling us) to a mortgage broker friend of his. It's just gone downhill since then. I won't bore you with the details but we first set foot in the bank on May 1st and we finally signed with a trust company (at a ridiculous interest rate) today. We forked out $267 for an appraisal that took more than 2 weeks to complete, $1000+ for a lawyer we never - not once - even saw (everything was done by his assistant, who was frankly a few monkeys short of a barrel "What's this 'CAPONE' on your credit report?" "It's short for CAPital ONE" "No, it says CAPONE, is that Italian" "Yes, we're in the mob [insert eye rolling]") a whopping $4500 "application fee" to the trust company and close to $1000 in other fees to various other places.
I am sick to death of the bullshit. I'm sick of being nothing more than a number. It occurs to me that the few things I truly care about are portable, why do I stay in this house/city/country anyway? The temptation to drop everything, to walk away from the nonsense, from the stress, from the heartache - to just take my little family and go someplace far away and start over again - well it's nearly overwhelming. It's a child's fantasy I know.
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