This week has felt a month long. Partly, this is because my mother, whom I love, and who is a dynamic sales person and amazing at loanstuff, was working in my office, at the desk around the corner from my private space, and she never stops talking. Ever. She gives this on-going running monologue of everything she's doing/thinking/planning. It was better this week than last, because she was, at least, house-sitting for a friend in Palo Alto, and I only had to hear this during the work day.
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Part of the reason I'm so insane when she's working with me is that, in order to preserve my own sanity, such as it is, I have a personal rule that I don't talk about Work when I am Home. This ability to compartmentalize my life is one that I obviously did not inherit from my mother. She can't do it. And she found it difficult to understand that once I walk in my front door, I refuse to talk about any mortgages other than my own. I remain convinced that part of the reason she burned out before the Baja move, was her inability to turn things off that way.
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Rates are the lowest they've been in about 30 years. No, that's not just marketing hype. This means that the phones at work never stop ringing. Ever. Yesterday, because we were down by two loan officers, I posted 45-day locks instead of 30 because that way they'd look a bit higher, and I was trying to discourage rate-shoppers, while still presenting good rates for serious callers. Today, E. and I will be the only two people in the office. It's enough to give anyone grey hair, and I think I saw one this morning. *whimper*
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We heard from the sellers of the property over our back fence that they wanted to counter our offer with a $10k higher price and then also not put the counter in writing until we were officially in escrow on the sale of our condo. Their realtor is pretty pissed at them, because he and Susan (aka Mom) go way back, and he knows our offer was fair, and even at the reduced price of $535k the only offer they've had was ours. They instructed him to reduce the price further and keep the listing open. So we're looking at alternative properties, including a very /very/ cute property in one of the nicer sections of the Burbank neighborhood, which is across San Carlos from the Rosegarden neighborhood. (And is named for the Burbank theatre, which was once respectable, then became an adult theatre, and is now closed.) There are parts of this neighborhood that are really nice, and while the houses weren't built in 1925 and aren't quite as cute, it's old enough that there are old trees. Our favorite in this neighborhood is a 4/2 with a pool and is listed for $475k, and the listing agent is my former boss. So we're asking Anne to call about it. (P.S. It also has a dog run.)
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So, I'm tired, and more stressed than I should be, and my house is torn apart because we're starting to pack stuff so the house can be 'staged' when it officially goes on the market, and what I want most in the world right now is to crawl back into bed, sleep till noon, and then soak in the tub for about a year (or until there's no more hot water and I run out of books), but instead, I'm going to go shower, and head to work. Hopefully, I'll get home before dark tonight.