I’m trying to slow down. Stop the sense of hurtling. On and on pressing the little blue “signature” that is entirely too easy to press.
We signed the contract saying we’re going to buy the house yesterday morning. It’s got some ifs ands and buts, but mostly it’s got our signatures on it, over and over and over again. And then we signed the contract saying we understand what we’re doing in applying for a mortgage, and the contract that said we understand that while the property’s mortgaged the lender can tell us to do x, y and z, and the contract that says we understand that while the property’s mortgaged the lender may NOT tell us to do a, b or c. Permissions and disclosures, and again, our signatures again and again and again.
*yes, not yet “our house” tho.
We read things. We read them twice. We understood most of it. We asked some questions. But when it comes down to it, clicking the little blue “sign” button is far too easy for something of such import, and it feels too much like skipping ads or scrolling through Instagram, not the engagement of debt, not the ownership of a home.
Digital signing is all fine and good. We could’ve driven over to sign some papers. And quills. There should be quills. We should come away from endeavours like this with inkstains on our fingers to drive home what we’ve done.
And in the meantime, Life certainly hasn’t stopped. This week is a little slow, and gives the illusion that the world’s going to pause for us to get this done, but I see what April looks like, and it’s going to come slamming back at me with a vengeance.
Mark Knopfler helps, though.
Whelp, then Jeff’s show got rained out, so we had him join us at 7 Locks on Saturday night. We did NOT see most of our regulars this evening and kind of felt as if we were mostly playing to ourselves (I believe the Madness of March) but having Jeff join us on Illinois and various other tunes was an absolute joy.
