Boxes, bags, and endless paperwork

Time for another of my sporadic, cathartic blog posts.

The saga continues.

I'm not entirely sure why I thought it would be easy. Nothing ever is, it seems. After a year and a half of searching, we found the place. After waiting two months, the bid was accepted. After completing a mountain of paperwork- and faxing it 3 times- we still have no idea what's going on. The latest exchange:

Carla: Just wanted to clarify that we are closing on the 30th.

Banker: Let me check. I'll get back to you later. Or sooner.

A day passes.

Carla: We're trying to make arrangements, just checking in about the closing.

Banker: We need the declaration page from your insurance. You can use the close date as your effective date. I think you told me the 30th.

Wait, you are asking me? I thought I was asking you...

Carla emailing insurance: We need the declaration page, yadda yadda yadda.

Insurance: no response.

Carla calling insurance: This is Carla...

Insurance: Oh, yes, I saw the email from you, but our computers are down and we can't access anything right now. Where can I call you?

Carla: gives number

Insurance:

That's right. Still waiting for that phone call.

So who is the person who actually knows what's going on and how do I reach said person? Meanwhile, half my belongings are packed up in boxes. And the bags of hand-me-down baby clothes are piling up. I think it'd be nice to get the stack of paperwork for the house filed away before the stack of paperwork for the hospital/baby/birth begins to accumulate...But that's probably wishful thinking.