Domicile Hunting

I can’t very well call it “house hunting” since you have to be willing and/or able to drop $350k+ in the DC metro area to get a free-standing building of even the worst quality. In Reston, VA, anyway. I’m simply not able, so willing is out of the question.

Grammatical aside: “any” is a singular modifier… which means that it applies ONE object out of many possible options. Therefore, when modifying a “way”, the colloquial compound is “anyway”, not “anyways”, because “ways” is plural, goddamnit.

Sorry. Anyway.

So my realtor (an awesome, if not chronically late, guy) finally hooked up with me on Saturday. First day out. Second place we walked through was, pardon the expression, fucking beautiful. Miles beyond anything (not anythings) I saw last summer, as well as anything else I saw that day. It was a townhouse, 18 years old, that looked like it was built last Friday. And, it was cheaper than any of the other shitholes I walked through that Saturday. The only potential problem was the polybutylene water pipes.

Got a pre-approval letter in pocket from one place, but really want to get financing through another. Good-faith estimate is all well and good, but not when there are two competing contracts. He spent 4 hours at the open house yesterday, schmoozing with the selling realtor, after which he presented our contract. So I burned some vacation, and spent the majority of today at home, compiling all the necessary information for the application from the bank I want to do business with.

I don’t want to go through the back-and-forth of competing contracts, especially when I’ll have to resort to the first pre-approving bank if shit comes to a head tomorrow. But, I didn’t have my shit covered, and nothing was lined up the way it should have been.

I never expected to find MyFirstHome(tm) on the first day of looking.

Update: Well, apparently they decided on Sunday to go with another contract, but didn’t bother to call George until this afternoon. *shrug* oh, well. Such is life.