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Raining cats, dogs and refi - Blather. Rants. Repeat.
A Møøse once bit my sister ...
Raining cats, dogs and refi
This was my only day this week with no specific commitments to court, clients or travel.  For the second straight day, I worked at home for the morning. It just seems silly to sit all morning in a suit when there's nobody to see it. The setup here's the same as it was for over a decade: I can make and receive calls and emails, look stuff up, produce work and do billing, and print at least modest amounts of material.

Yesterday, I was in the local office for maybe an hour, all dressed up, before court; I went home straight from that.  Today, I barely made it through the office door, and they were lucky to get me in long pants for that.  Before that, though, I went on an adventure in process service.

We sued a company and got a judgment against it without ever having formal process contact with its owner.  In this and most states, you can do that; as a tradeoff for the owner(s) getting limited liability from creditors, the Secretary of State in Albany is authorized to receive legal process on the company's behalf; they then mail it to the company's last known address.

Now, though, I need to serve the owner with post-judgment paperwork.  He has a relatively vanilla name (not quite "John Smith" but far more common than, say, mine), and I'd been flummoxed in tracking down an address. But a friend has a relative who had a tip: Not John Smith lives barely a mile from our house, and it was on my way to something else.

So Siri and I looked him up, and at 11:25 a.m. I was on his front steps....
and his Doberman was looking out the front living room window at me.

Now this could be a sweet adorable Dobie; I've known more than a few of those.  But way, WAY too silent- like the ones in Boys from Brazil who had their larynxes removed so they could eat you in peace and quiet.  Undeterred, I approached the door and rang the bell. Killer did not move, and nobody answered- but then I got an even bigger scare.  On the front door was one of these stickers:

Two was the number of dogs to which it did count. But.

Take a wild guess what the cat census was:

101 ticky boxes!

Ten. Diez. X. Which, if they're anything like our cats, probably mark several spots.

So what's worse? Mauling by a mad dog, or tackling by a Crazy Cat Lady?

I'm giving it one more try before I call in the professional process server- and only if Not John is outside, with no four-legged ones in sight.


In the few minutes I was at my desk, I wound up with only one ridiculously busy moment. The other office had just left a voicemail, I was on a call with one of my Two Degrees of Kevin Bacon people (an opposing party who has completely independent dealings with three different clients of mine), and that is when the local bank officer called about our refi.

Yes, we're doing it again. No, I haven't turned it into a Very Secret Diary series here because they were asking for surprisingly little. The plan is to use the extra equity of the past few years to pay off the entire current mortgage, my car, and one credit card that just jumped interest rates on us- plus leaving some money on a credit line that we can access as needed. The interest rate will be slightly higher than we're now at, and the term will be 15 years rather than the balance of 30 we're now scheduled for, but we will not need to carry mortgage insurance anymore and that alone will make up much of the payment difference, and the No Car Payment should take care of the rest.

I kept waiting for Underwriting Hell, of the kind we got three years ago about proving every penny of my self-employment income, my receivables, even my very existence. The call today, though? None of that- it's approved, and all that remains is to get payoffs on the three loans being paid off and we could be done by the end of the month (key, because our current mortgage is FHA and has a quirky Thing where you have to pay the entire next month's interest if you don't close by the first of a month).

No extravagant plans for the remaining credit line- getting ahead on taxes for once, and funding retirement accounts, are my initial goals.  But no sudden infusions of hundreds, or thousands, or millions or billions of cats.
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