The hits never stop coming from my real estate agent. Last night at almost 10 p.m. she emails me to say she forgot to call me but she wanted me to know that my analyst at Chase had submitted all the paperwork to the investors. I should have been happy about that fact, and I was up to a point. What I wasn't happy about is that I have no idea what was on that paper work. That is, I have no idea what the final terms of the offer was. Seeing as it's my house, I should get to know that, right?So I emailed her back. Maybe I wasn't as nice as I could be in that email, but given the way I've been treated lately, can you blame me? I point blank asked her what the final terms were. I told her I wanted to know because I will have to pay taxes on whatever the difference of that amount and what I still owe on my loan ends up being. I also said that I wanted to know because I'm sure they all expected me to sign on the dotted line if the offer was approved, but I refused to sign anything blindly.
Among other things, Little Miss Snippy Pants had the audacity to email me back this morning that I should be grateful that the amount was what it was and that she, the analyst, and the other realtor had worked as hard as they had to get it for me. Grateful? Sure, I'm grateful the amount is higher than it could otherwise be. Sure, I'm grateful that I have an offer at all, especially after the house has been on the market for a year. Sure, I'm grateful that my analyst thinks it will be approved. But am I grateful that she constantly keeps me out of the loop, has pushed the other side's agenda to the point where she has told me that "as is" means "as decorated" and that I just need to walk away from all of it with the clothes on my back, or that she talks to me like I'm a piece of Southern fried, white trash? No. That I'm not grateful for.
So I called her out on some of those things. I emailed her back and said that it wasn't a matter of being grateful. It was a matter of knowledge and of being included in the negotiations. I pointed out that she had gone to the other side with that check from HUD and offered it without even checking with me to see that it was okay. I said that I was tired of being out of the loop.
If you read my post from earlier in the week called "She Called Me Honey," you can probably guess what she said next. That's right. She said, "I never said that, and I never did that."
If any of you live in Texas and heard a loud scream this morning, that was me. I'm pretty sure my voice carried across that many states. Not only is she saying that I imagined the whole 10 day situation, but now she's saying that I made up the unauthorized, $1000 offer as well.
Now I may have an overactive imagination, but it's not stuck in overdrive. I don't even know enough about real estate to make that stuff up. Little Miss Snippy Pants said it just as clear as day, just like she said, "We have to close in 10 days. I have to call Matt and get the ball rolling. We have to close in 10 days." She said it so many times she sounded like the rabbit in Alice in Wonderland who wanted everyone to know that he was late for a very important date. I...am...not...making...it...up!
If I made that up, would my hair be falling out more than normal? Would my skin be a mess? Would I have constant heartburn? Would I toss and turn at night? No, no, no, and no. She said it. Now she's covering her butt.
I swear I wish I had my own rabbit hole to jump down. At least I'd get away from her.
