In 2009 I took out a secured loan. A small balance remained. Presently, I’m near the end of standing naked in an allegorical spread-sheet format before bankers, credit companies, loan specialists, underwriters, and other such entities in the mortgage refinance business.
“The underwriters would like you to pay off that 2009 secured loan,” noted one of the above persons. “Please show the account that you used to pay off the loan.”
Monday I trekked over to my bank and paid the amount using two accounts: a pathetic savings account that earns roughly 50-cents a year in interest, and the balance from my checking account. The bank teller photocopied my check and withdrawl slip to document loan payoff.
These I faxed to the lending company. While one of the persons there found it a challenge to literally connect the dots, I blamed it on her youth and probable inexperience, the fact that she works in what sounds like a boiler room within one of those hideous office stalls, and that she had a bad cold.
This, the lead “banker” noted was the final step. Woot! Woot! Can I put on my pants now?
Not so fast, half-naked woman. “Corelogic will set up a conference call between you and the bank to clarify loan payoff,” noted the office stall-trapped lending company person at 7:30 PST today.
Eager to end this adventure in mortgage refinance, I called Corelogic who did, indeed, connect with my bank to confirm loan payoff.
Now let me ask you: In 2009, what was your life goal ? Or, send me your life goal today, and in 2015 I will ask you that question because that will be your security answer for retrieving important data.
Guess what? The woman who could confirm if I did or did not pay off my loan, and thereby allow me to regain an ounce of dignity and let me put all of my clothes back on, asked, in serious voice, “Charmaine, what is your ultimate life goal?”
“No. What answer did you give to the banker who wrote this loan as to what your ultimate life goal was in 2009,” she patiently explained.
I spit out my coffee laughing. “Well, finish my soon-to-be-famous bestselling novel?”
“Bring about world peace?” (OK, my satirical angel began wing-slapping my shoulder.)
“Are you freaking serious? You want me to recollect what my ultimate life goal was in 2009?”
“That’s correct,” she stoically replied.
“Sweetheart, in 2009 I was maybe 9-months into retirement. I’m sure my ultimate life goal was way beyond reality, and I haven’t the slightest clue what that might have been, other than, revisiting size 6, do I quit coloring my hair, how much time do I give to volunteering, do I keep the working title of my book, what about writing children’s books, how about those blogs, and how many ocean workshops can I attend this year, I want to plant the garden of a lifetime, I want to get off of these anti-cancer drugs, I’d like to learn more about how wines ferment, blah, blah, blah.”
Meanwhile the Corelogic woman fell apart in laughter on her end of this 3-way. “I think you and I would be great friends,” she said before her professionalism had to regain control.
The moral of the story is that there are good security questions and security questions that make me wonder, what the hell are they thinking? Or, perhaps I should establish an ultimate life goal. Nah. Today a Pacific storm whips up the ocean. Today I wonder what that raucous sea is upwelling and my goal is to understand that more fully so that I can better write about the importance and effects of upwelling and the environment. But yesterday I noticed a few new lines creeping their way from my eyes. Yesterday’s ultimate life goal was to either save up for an eye lift or deal with aging via more creams and oils—religiously.
The data required to close this project was declined by the bank because I haven’t a clue what my 2009 ultimate life goal might have been. The Corelogic representative said she would try another avenue.
Right now my ultimate personal goal is to quit walking about jay bird naked in front of people I don’t know, never will know, but forced to flash the flesh to reduce my monthly mortgage payment.
Life goals. Aren’t they like New Year’s resolutions?