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This morning, after the gym and breakfast, I called up the mortgage broker that was recommented to us, Derek. Seems like a nice enough guy, and, more importantly, seems pretty interested in getting us money, even though both Bernie and I have been contracting for a while. Apparently, if you haven't been working a full-time job for the last two years or more, lenders tend to regard you as some sort of criminal. There's something called a "stated income loan", though, that sounds like we might be able to swing. We just have to scrape up a ton of paperwork for our meeting tomorrow, and all sorts of grown up stuff. So ready to get this thing on.
I spent the rest of the afternoon looking for good photos of a bunch of my friends for a project. That involved going through my own extensive photo collection, as well as every other damn photo page I could find. I've got what I came to get, but my eyes are pretty bleary, and I've got that weird time-travel feeling you get after going back and forth over years of memory-laden media. Although, as far as I can tell, the degenerates that I hang out with have just spent the last several years drinking and giving people the finger.
Outside - yes, I went outside, someone's got to check the mail for goodies - it's a crisp, autumn-y day. Pretty nice. We might not get the weather in strict order, but we sure do get it all.(January 16, 2003 01:52 PM)