Circles of Hell and the People Who Live There

There is a special circle in hell for people who use publically-available information (i.e. foreclosure listings) to hassle and harass individuals who already have enough worries on their plate, thank you very much.

I have now received two letters--one I could tell was a possible lie, but the other of which looked very legal in nature, with a "docket number" and everything--which both indicated sale dates on my house. The legal one convinced me, and I assumed that all was lost on July 31st. A couple days later, Tim called me at work to let me know that "the appraisers from the bank" were here to take pictures of the house. Since no one had told him anything, Tim did not allow them in; since no one had notified me they were coming, I told him to tell them that they could come back when proper arrangements had been made with me. I assumed the house had been sold, based on this info.

It hadn't. Had I known, I would have spent those few days exploring options.

In an effort to find out WHO had bought my house, I called my mortgage company. They told me the sale date had NOT passed; it had, however, been set for August 7th. This Tuesday. I found this out Friday at about 4:30 PM.

I'd already accepted the inevitable; it just burns me that I was misled to believe that it was MORE inevitable than it actually was. And apparently all this crap is legal--phone calls and letters from people "interested in the property"--Those "interested" parties --better known as VULTURES--have not only called my number, but also my mother's. Whenever my mother gets a call about any financial matter of mine, it sends her into a tizzy. Not enough of a tizzy to help me save the house, of course; enough of a tizzy to give me a thorough questioning about my personal affairs. I have begun to believe that my reckless impulse to help people regardless of my OWN condition may very well spring from my mother's over-cautiousness in this regard. She will give me enough financial assistance to keep me functional; she will not help me enough to keep me INDEPENDENT, regardless of the fact that I have addressed all her concerns about "I don't want to get stuck with the mortgage if something happened to you." Yeah, see, that's why I signed up at my job for life insurance worth about twice the value of the house... Long and short of it--she wants me HOME. HER home, not mine.

I'm off now to Tim's favorite bar, to meet one of the bartenders who's a friend of his, a girl who needs a potential roomie. I may be back on the North Side soon...not the worst idea, by any stretch of the imagination.

The job, by the way, continues to go splendidly. I've already had my first Really Bad Day Where Everything Went Wrong, and I think I handled it well; I just went to my boss and confessed my screw-up, and we talked about it and decided how to handle it and then it was pretty much forgotten. It's nice to be treated as an adult...

...which is why I'd pretty much rather chew off my limbs, at this moment, than go to live at Mom's.