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Sharing Costs…

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My husband came to me smiling ecstatically Saturday.

“I have good news!” he said with delight.

Did he get a job? Did he find a thousand dollars in change while cleaning the couch cushions? I thought.

“The neighbor rented an industrial size rototiller and if I help him at his house, he’ll bring it over here and we can use it! We can dig up the backyard!” he said.

It has become painfully obvious that my husband and I have differing meanings of ‘good news’.

In his defense, we have wanted to tear apart our backyard for months but we haven’t had the time or the money for a giant rototiller.

I don’t know how you spent your weekend but my hours passed painfully. I followed my husband with a shovel and a water hose while he smiled with glee pushing the manliest piece of machinery our yard has seen. The layer of dust is so thick on my scalp, I’m on wash number two and I can still do a good impression of Pig Pen from Charlie Brown. I may have ‘accidentally’ sprayed my husband’s face with water a few times out of sheer spite but it failed to wipe off his giddy look.

Next weekend our neighbor is renting a cement mixer… and has made the same offer. My husband said, “Sweetheart! We can finally widen our driveway – for FREE!! All it will take is a little bit of elbow grease!”

How is it that in less than a week, the Swine Flu is suddenly looking like a good way to spend Thanksgiving weekend?


Dealing with Making Home Affordable…

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I am throwing the white flag…

and applying for the Making Home Affordable program.

Yesterday, I left work early and made THE call. My call started at 5:07 p.m. and ended at 5:57 p.m.

I called the Making Home Affordable number on my Bank of America mortgage website and waited 17 minutes on hold. Someone answered and transferred my call since my mortgage used to be a Countrywide mortgage and they had a separate division.

I’m fairly certain they routed my call around the world because really, what else can explain the 24 minute hold time and the gentleman who sounded like had lunch in Bangladesh. He asked for my name, account number, checked my account, thanked me for paying on time, and told me I would be transferred yet again to a representative. 9 minutes later, a message said, ‘Our office is now closed. Please call back another time.’

I would give you advice on dealing with the Making Home Affordable program but since I didn’t talk to anyone, I will tell you this… you need more than an hour.

Dear Bank of America… I had far better things to do than spend 50 minutes of my life listening to Kenny G. and the recorded reminder that someone will be with me shortly. Obviously you and I have VERY different definitions of ‘shortly’ AND, I had to drink three glasses of Chianti just to keep my ears from bleeding.
Ugh. Kenny G.

I’ll let you know how it goes… if I ever get through.