I'm piggybacking off what T wrote about earlier today. I had planned on writing about the things on my mind anyway, but her writing about it gives me motivation to do so.
The Year of Awesome has been slightly derailed. Early in April, it looked like both T and I were getting things together. Our eating had gotten on track, we were excited for our upcoming Tucson training camp, and we had made our offer on the house and were all set to close on April 14th. Life was good. Fitness was good.
Then plans got derailed. Fast.
Right before the Tucson training camp, the level of stress skyrocketed. I'm not going to go into details why, but let's just say it happened (if you're actually curious, send me a personal email or FB message if we're friends there). We salvaged what we could out of Tucson and I would say both our stress levels plummeted. With getting to meet Hillary Biscay, hanging out with our friends Debbie and Seton (owners of Trisports.com) and visiting my aunt and uncle in Scottsdale (and some additional relatives to boot!) it was a trip that had the opportunity to clear our heads.
On the drive back, the stress reached epic proportions. To understand why, I need to start at the beginning.
Since late March, I had been diligent in getting our documents together for the house. Our mortgage broker, Michele, was fantastic. A wonderful person to deal with. However, unfortunately, Michele had gotten completely swamped and had to give our closing to an assistant. This assistant was, to put it mildly, incompetent. She would ask for documents, I would send them, she would ask for more, I would send them. Finally, it reached a head in Tucson, when she called and asked for one more. I emailed it to her with the promise that it was the last thing she would need and we would have our number on Monday.
Monday was the drive back.
Somewhere outside of Albuquerque (about 90 minutes), I get a call from Katie (the assistant) telling me that she needed ONE more document. I at this point was pissed, and told her that I was on the road. She said it was imperative that I get her the document. I said fine, stepped on the gas, and we made plans to hit a Starbucks so I could email her. I began venting to T (probably swearing a lot) and made peace with the fact we weren't going to get our house thanks to Katie. T was as frustrated as I was, but calmly made the decision to call Michele and ask what was going on. Michele was utterly stunned that Katie had not finished our stuff, and promised us she'd look into it. She asked me to send the document to her, which I did at an Albuquerque Starbucks. Calmer and at ease, we got back on the road.
Somewhere near Las Vegas NM, Michele called us, completely deflated and apologetic. She said that the underwriter would need a copy of a check I deposited for $80.00. You are reading that right. $80.00. I again freaked out, accepting that this house thing wasn't meant to be. I tried thinking of what our options were. I called my bank to see if they could scan a copy of the check. They were not helpful in the slightest, and I have strong incentive to leave them. I called my buddy who wrote me the check. He immediately sent it via text, which I forwarded to Michele. She was cool with that, but the underwriter was not. He needed the actual check copied. The last option was to bust ass to the bank that I deposited the check into and hope for a miracle. T was driving and we both agreed no stops at this point. We were both hungry and needed to pee, but desperation.
Nearly breaking down the door of the bank, I voided my bladder, then spoke with the teller. I explained to her my dire situation and she smiled and went in the back. She found a stack of checks and pulled out the one for $80.00 that I had deposited. I wanted to hug her! She made a copy of it, and 30 minutes later, Michele had a copy. Finally satisfied, she got us our preliminary numbers. Afterwords, she expressed her frustration at her assistant and assured us that it wasn't our fault.
The next day, we closed and got the keys to the house. We were ecstatic...until we realized how much work we had to put in. Wallpaper stripping, ripping down a mirror, and more. Oh, and you know, moving all our crap.
So you can guess why working out has suffered in the past two weeks.
Both T and I agree that the tipping point was Katie making that phone call and making us panic. That was the tipping point of the stress, and it really hasn't been alleviated since. We've tried and done some working out, but it's forced and not really quality. So we made a compromise: the rest of April? Let it be what it will be. May? We pick it back up, and we pick it back up hard. The house will fall into place.
Because the Year of Awesome must continue.