Last night, after a day of packing and purging, with so much still to be done, M.s. and I went to check out TVs. He has already designed our home theater system (which will include high-end speakers he designed himself a few years back), and needs to figure out which TV will go in it.
We're leaning towards plasma, 61 to 71 inches or something, but we're still looking. Something to accompany the insane, perfectionist, 9-speaker system M.s. has designed (God bless Cornell's electrical engineering program).
NEXT WEEK! Walkthrough and closing. I'm really fucking frustrated with the lack of communication and handholding on behalf of these people. It was like pulling teeth to find out this morning that our walkthrough was "tentatively scheduled" for the day AFTER the day our rate-lock expires. What!? It's a good thing I called.
Papers go to escrow tomorrow, and "she'll call you," the guy said, but I insisted on having her number. "I'll call her," I responded. "The last person who was supposed to call us months ago finally did so only after my psychotic message to her yesterday that something like a simple little EXPIRATION date had been overlooked in scheduling."
Honestly, people. Honestly.
Now I'm off to the post office to mail a Reader to some PR group in L.A. I wonder if I get reimbursed for shit like this. Oh, she was nice. It's the least I can do.