Deb's Diary Archive

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I HATE THE STUPID MORTGAGE GUY...

Dear Diary,

I am broke. I'm not talking about "oh, I've got no money until payday" broke, or "can you lend me 60cents to get some pop tarts out of the vending machine" broke. No, I am what they call plain broke. I had a very trying year last year, and this was supposed to be my time to rebound from that, pumping up the back balance a bit and getting back some of the lost reserves. Maybe I would even be able to treat myself to a nice new pair of 7 jeans this year? Who knows. All I was hoping was to reclaim some of my former pride and glory and feel like an accomplished adult...
I was on track to do that when the tax man struck. He told me that I didn't pay enough on my house last year and now, not only do I owe a big wedge from last year, but my mortgage is going up big time this year too. That was the straw that broke the camels back. Fine. I will get a home equity line of credit. Pay back all I owe and stop worrying about money. Easy right? Not when you're dealing with Mr. Wayne Ricks. Yes, you heard me Wayne Ricks. What more do you need sir? You've got all my paper work, I filled in all the forms. You've got all my back tax records. You've even interviewed my dog. JUST GIVE ME MY DAMN MONEY!!! Last Wednesday I lost it on Mr. Ricks. He was being so condescending and wouldn't answer my simple questions so I just started crying. It was out of anger and sadness at first. Then I noticed his attitude changed. So I laid it on thick. "I'm all alone here" I said. "I don't want to have to sell my house" I blubbed. "It's technically my money" I whined, "just give it to me puleeease......" "You'll hear back from me by 4 pm" he finally said. Wow. That never happened before. Hurray crying!

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