Fucking Clusterfuck.

Those who know me know that I curse like a sailor (who curses).

FUCK.

Rob just called me to say that the bank (the one he works for) cannot fund this loan because of the way the condo was coded. Immediately I think about construction and city coding, but it doesn't make sense because many condos within the complex (there are eight total) have funded with Oregon Bond, who tend to be picky.

Whatever.

What matters now is, now what do we need to do?

Our lender referred us to someone we don't know, who is in meetings all day, and will be coming in tomorrow to work on our file.

Our Realtor called us last night to give us the contact information for a lender that she knew and trusted, and who had saved three loans that fell through with Rob's bank just this week.

Awesome. But Rob and I are stubborn and loyal, so we decided to stick with the lender guy from Rob's bank.

Now we know.

And now I am just waiting on our Realtor to give us a call back (and her phone went straight to voicemail!)...

FUCK.

Again, this could work out. Or it could mean we're not meant to buy this place.

Sometimes certain things stress me out more than others. Rob is pretty stressed out, but I am channeling that stress, that anger, those nerves.

I just hope I'm channeling them correctly.