Thanks for nothing, Wells Fargo

2:00 pm tomorrow. Richmond Courthouse. Be there. It’s foreclosure day. This is definitely not how (or when) we expected our house to be taken from us. We were trying for a short sale. We had an amazing offer. The bank screwed up big time. They assigned a complete moron to oversee our sale. He mixed up documents. He failed to communicate. He terminated the short sale. He reinstated the foreclosure. Effective immediately. Moron.

So, tomorrow at 2:00 our house might be sold to the highest bidder. Or, it might not. Don’t ya just love the uncertainty? The drama? I for one do not. I try to steer clear of drama if at all possible. I’m more of the philosophy that goes, “this is where we are right now and we can’t change most of it, so we’re just going to get through it and move on.” What is that? Jamie-ism?

Don’t worry, though, little dears. We have a plan. I can’t go into all of the details right now, but our top-secret, emergency plan will keep us in our house for a few more months. There is pretty much zero probability that we will be one of those families you see on TV whose belongings are sitting in the driveway being picked over by riff-raff and raccoons. And that is lucky because we have a lot of both of those in our neighborhood. Yet another thing I won’t miss when we do eventually, inevitably move out.