Why do I even try?

I'm not sure why I still fret over small savings here and there when my ability to make much larger blunders continues on unabated. I swear to god that when I started at my current workplace, I investigated the tax evasion option for public transit and rejected it because they would only pay for Chicago Cards with fixed amounts and not unlimited 30-day passes. But while cruising the HR website today to figure out how to furnish salary verification in the absence of printed paystubs, I clicked on the link and read the current policy. Guess what! They do offer 30-day passes after all! If it's simply a question of me misreading the policy in the first place, then I'm out over a thousand bucks. If they actually changed the policy in the past few years and never bothered to tell me, then it's only a couple hundred.

I LOVE FINDING OUT SHIT LIKE THIS!

Today is a stressful day in general. We have the inspection this afternoon and we found out first thing this morning that we have to have a honkin' big cashier's check in hand at it. Plus we only got the condo minutes this morning and I at least haven't had any time to review them for problems. Mortgage rates are oscillating wildly, making every choice (locking in now or waiting for another decrease) seem like a bad one and dealing with lenders is about as much fun as dental surgery.

Are we done yet?

"What are you doing in my house?"

Today ended much better than it began. The inspection went well, we turned over the rest of the earnest money, and monshu and I seem to have settled on a lender and gotten our paperwork together. At 2 p.m., the old man was ready to kill someone; after dinner at Uncommon Grounds (I really need to do a post on the restaurants in that 'hood now that I've got three or four to talk about), he was back to his sweet lovable self.

Naturally, there were a few more bumps on the road to Wellville. Half-an-hour before the inspection was over, a downpour drove the owners out of the park and onto their back porch. The thought of their bedraggled children shivering in the open air haunted us, so I went to tell them that as we were completely finished in the lower level, they should feel free to occupy it. Their young girl looked at me and said, "What are you doing in my house?" "I'm just visiting for a bit!" I said sweetly and fled back into the house as her mother, chagrined, excused her saying, "You know, four year-olds!" Goddess only knows how her parents explained away the hairy strangers going through their things.

I've lost count of how many times I've said "Poor monshu!" through all of this, but he really had a tale of woe this morning. Unbeknownst to him, there was a limit set on the size of files he could scan and PDFify through the office copier. (No warning message, so he found out only after running back and forth several times only to find nothing there). When we got home and called up my tax data, I was like, "Isn't there a way to just send him a file? I mean, printing this out, scanning it, and then e-mailing would just be stupid."

"That's what I ended up doing."

*Da opens TaxAct*

*Da immediately finds "Save as PDF" option*

monshu: "Well, shit."