Competing Hatreds Or Did I Step Through Time Warp?

Hmm, looks like I’ve been a little light on the posts this week, but really, not much has happened.
Sure, that’s never stopped me from posting before, obviously, but this week…well, I just didn’t feel up to it.
This morning I got up, watched a movie I’d downloaded, then watched a TV show I’d recorded, then sat around for a while.
No trip to the comic shop this week, as the new books won’t be out until tomorrow due to the holiday.
I did go near the comic shop, though, as I stopped to have lunch at the Thai place before heading in to work for a training session. I didn’t order anything comic book-y, though, going with the simple “Special Eggplant,” which was very tasty, and sweat-inducingly spicy.
I got an e-mail from my mortgage company with a bunch of paperwork attached that I supposedly had gotten back in July – which is a bunch of BS, as I had never previously received it – that I needed to sign and fax in, which was supplement to the other stack of paperwork I had to mail in. I apologize to the families of the trees that died so that I could fill it all out.
The amount of paperwork involved in buying a house is simply retarded.
I mean, last time I checked we were living in the 21st Century. Did that change somehow? Have I stepped back in time?
Seriously, that there is so much paperwork involved just says to me that a good percentage of the people involved in the loan business are short-sighted idiots who have no grasp of the kinds of capabalities that modern technology makes available to them.
I mean, they have these amazing newfangled contraptions called “computers” and I hear tell about some kind of “interwebs” or somesuch.
Seriously, a significant portion of the documents they needed from me I obtained by logging onto an Internet site, printing out its contents, and mailing it to them via the postal service.
Why don’t we use the Pony Express while we’re at it?
Seriously, all I should have to do is provide them with my Social Security Number, and then sign one form (it could even be an electronic form, but I’ll allow them this one piece of paper for the sake of nostalgia) which gives them permission to collect whatever financial data they need, and which indicates that I have been made aware of all of the pertinent disclosures.
Of course, I know that the worst is yet to come, as the closing will involve all manner of signing and initialing, and sacrificing goats to Ba’al, and who knows what all else.
I’m sure that someone in the know could provide me with all manner of justifications for why all of this paperwork is necessary, but I would submit that those reasons are specious and stupid and are designed to support a needlessly complex and antiquated top-heavy structure of tradition and willful ignorance.
So yeah, pretty damn sick of signing stuff.
Maybe in honor of the primitive and quaint nature of the process, at the closing, rather than signing my name, I’ll simply make my mark, like some pre-movable type illiterate serf.
In any case, my work week is nearly upon me, and as we move further into September we come that much closer to the day when I can say goodbye to this place that has been my home, and which I have come to hate so very, very much, and it’s the fact that my hatred of this place burns so much hotter than my hatred of pointlessly signing useless pieces of paper that keeps me moving to my goal of positioning my shoulders Atlas-like under a world of debt.
And on that thought, I’ll bring this entry to a close.