Somehow I always manage to clear my tears before calling my mother. She tends to obsessively worry about her children, and I hate watching her hurt over us. My mother's personality is the combination of Maureen O'Hara and Katherine Hepburn, although she has mellowed quite a bit over the years. She asks me about the new job. My first response is "You should move your retirement funds there. They are so conservative you'll be lucky if they allow even you to withdraw it." She muses, "THAT conservative?" We both laugh.
I then begin to tell her of the whole board meeting day. I mean, maybe it is me, maybe it is something I should do without thought, since it is part of the job. My mother quietly listens, and then begins asking questions. "They hired you to be a closing manager, right?" she begins. "Yes" I answer. "And what does a closing manager typically do?" she continues. I respond, "A closing manager oversees the drawing of the legal documents for the loan transactions, making sure everything is correct. The manager oversees the fundings, where signatures are checked and final conditions are met, and signs off on the release of the banks funds to close escrow. The manager works as a Notary as needed and works with the IT department when new loan programs are drafted to insure the legal documents are correct. The manager follows compliance and trains staff on new lending regulations." "Right", she says, "and I didn't pay for you to go to college so that some cheap bank can make you clean the bathrooms and wash the windows over doing the job you are hired and trained to perform".
Ahhhh so I wasn't nuts after all. Then she goes on to say, "Hon, you are going to have to change things there or get another job". Uh yeah there's that. I never told her what was going on in my marriage. I never told anyone. I acted as if everything was fine. I am not one to discuss my marriage problems, and I wanted it to work. I take my marriage vows seriously.
I wish I could say the board meeting event is the only problem with the bank. At some point after the board meeting the VP decides on a new loan program and leaves a wrinkled paper with scribbled notes on my desk, which of course, I can't read. I go to his office, where his door is closed. "You can't bother him right now - he's praying with people", one of my staff tell me as she walks by. "What?" I respond. "Oh he goes downtown and gathers up the homeless people and brings them back to his office for a prayer sermon," she smiles. "You have got to be kidding me!" I answer back. "Dear you have no idea what this place is like," she responds, rolling her eyes. The anger in my belly is on fire. I think of the millions and millions of closings I handled at the last places I worked. It is always about the business at hand. Hell, my staff jokingly got mad at me when I became pregnant, because no one could figure out when I wasn't working long enough to have sex.
I am staring at the VPs door wondering how he gets away with putting the bank and its employees at risk. To bring people into the back area of a bank when you don't know them is plain crazy, not to mention the fact that some are drunk or on drugs. Oh, but it is real important that women wear skirts.
I notice also that flood certifications and notifications to the borrower are being handled incorrectly by the real estate loan department. I begin by telling my staff they are ordering the flood certs too late in the transaction, and they need to be ordered by underwriting at loan approval. The answer I get, "But we have always done it this way, and good luck on getting the underwriters to do it" "Yeah well this way will get us a 10,000 fine per transaction when the Feds audit" I respond. The next thing I know my boss is in my face about how the bank pays this attorney all kinds of money for compliance and who do I think I am to question it. (Um, well my uncle started and taught at that oh so prestigious law school the attorney went to and he doesn't know real estate compliance either.) I was trained by the best compliance officer in San Francisco when I worked for Continental Savings. I also straightened out the same problem at the mortgage company I had just been at. So... I tell my boss that I am right, but if she wants to risk it - be my guest. She will not allow me to change the status quo.
Luckily for me, the feds make a surprise pre-audit about a month later. A pre-audit is where some agents come into the bank and pull a few loan files and check compliance randomly. The next thing I know there are doors shutting and meetings going and people panic stricken running all over the place. It seems every file the fed pulls is out of compliance for flood certs and they are demanding the bank re-disclose flood notifications and return the closing costs to the borrowers on all the loan files.
Ok, so we know how they feel about paying for a catering service for the board lunch, imagine what they were like over returning thousands of dollars in loan fees to hundreds and hundreds of borrowers. I love it.
Of course, guess who gets assigned the project to pull all the files, write the letters, handle the re-disclosures and cut the refund checks? Yep, me and my staff. It was the first of several hissy fits I have with my boss. I tell her no. I thought her head was going to blow up like a tomato in the microwave. I refuse unless underwriting gets involved and it becomes a project for everyone in the real estate department. Since I was wearing a suit on the day I became angry, she relented and granted my request. Besides, I can have her head on a platter for ignoring my warning about the flood certs.
In the middle of the project I am called into the VP's office, where my boss and the bank president are waiting. I am wondering what me or my staff have done now. They are very excited when they ask me to sit down. It seems they have thought it over and would like to make me their compliance officer along with being the closing manager. The first question I ask while trying to hold in my teeth from popping out, "What is the salary increase?". They look at me stunned and insulted that I should ask such a question.
"Oh, there is no salary increase, we only do that once a year at review. This is a reward for your great work so far. We are thinking of having you take over what the attorney is doing for us on contract" the VP answers. I see... another way to save money. I thank them and tell them I will think about it.
Each morning when walking to work down the long city street, I do everything I can not to cry my way into the bank. I touch Saint Jude and beg him to save me from my own life. I take deep breaths and tell myself I just have to make it until 5:00pm. They won't let you stay past 5:00pm, because overtime is forbidden. Each day I review the newspapers for a better job.
I walk out of the meeting desperate for a change and I run upstairs to the lunch room phone. My best work experience was working at Continental Savings in SF. Since it's closure, all the employees have stayed in touch. They are the most amazing people I have ever met in my life. A group of them started a software company in Berkeley based on the loan software we used at Continental Savings. I pick up the phone, call information and obtain their phone number. I call, and John answers the phone. John is the co-owner and life-partner to one of the people I worked with at Continental. He is sweetly thrilled to hear from me and I tell him of my current job situation. He becomes angry and puts me on hold to go get the other owner, the one I worked with at Continental Savings. They get on a conference phone with me, and listen to my story, both convey shock and anger. They leave me with "We will take care of you hon, just give us a day and we will get you the hell out of that place!"
Without realizing it, the whole time on the phone, my right hand is on my left breast pressing against the St Jude medal. I go back downstairs to work. The next day, sitting at my desk the phone rings and I answer it. On the line is a guy from North American Mortgage asking me to fax him my resume. It seems he got a call from John and George from the software company. He believes he has the perfect job for me. I have been carrying ten copies of my resume with me every day in case I run into someone on the street looking for an employee... I race to the fax and send it over to him. He says he will call me back. Fifteen minutes later, without an interview, he calls and offers me a job over the phone. It seems they are starting a Sales Automation project and need someone with my background to set up QA and interview all of the national credit companies. Who ME?
Nervous from my current job hell, I ask to meet his team. He invites me to come over on my lunch break and meet them. I brake several speed records driving to NAMC's corporate office. I meet him and his project coordinator, who whispers in my ear how much money I should demand for my resume qualifications. She tells me they will pay it and not back down. Thanks to this woman I can finally afford to get a divorce. Angels of mercy come in the oddest packages. I liked everyone, demand the money and leave with a new dream job.
Now all I have to do is give notice...Ohhhhhhhh shit.
As soon as I return to the bank I sit down and type my resignation. I haven't passed my three month probation period. It feels like the longest job run of my life. My boss is in a meeting with her process server. I remember the week of Christmas when she told him to serve the foreclosure notices on Christmas Eve, when everyone is sure to be home. I want to go in her office and throw the letter at her. She walks the process server to his car and I use the minute to place the letter squarely on her chair.
I then tell my staff and ask them to pretend they do not know. Again, they beg me in my parting to do something about the board meeting day. I promise I will go down in flames for them, and the processor grins at the idea of what is about to come down. My boss returns to her office, picks up my envelope, opens it and in three seconds yells, "Oh my God!" Now frankly I thought she hated me and would be dancing the jig in her office. She yells my name ...ladies and gentlemen... let the shit begin.
She insists that I sit down and begins to grill me why. The first answer out of my mouth is, "because I hate it here." She grins, "Dear, EVERYONE here hates it here, but it's no reason to leave." I am thinking how bad of a life is someone suppose to live? She goes on to say they have big plans for me. What? Clean the men's toilets next? I am steadfast in my insistence that I am leaving. She nervously leaves her office and goes straight to the VP's office. At least there weren't any homeless people praying.
I go back to my desk in time to be buzzed by the VP. He wants to see me in his office. My boss has returned to her office and unfortunately I am stuck alone with this man. I am thinking if he starts praying over me I am done. He also wants to know why I am leaving. I respond that I resent having to wear a skirt everyday, that I am told how to dress and it is an insult to make me and my staff serve the board." Dead silence follows, as he looks about his office. He begins with, "But this is the way we have always done it here." He goes on to tell me that he can relate though, because when he was building his 6000 square foot home, he imported rocks for a stone wall. His mother came and didn't approve of the stone wall. The home I live in is probably the size of his bathroom, and he relates this to me how? He lectures me for about an hour until I interrupt him and say, "Look I don't like you very much, and I am not enjoying this, if you don't stop and let me go back to work, then I am getting up and walking out and you can figure out my job starting now." He almost faints. He lets me leave and I go back to my desk. I am finally free.
Its funny, because I never put the bank on my resume. I pretend I never worked there. I go on to a wonderful life at NAMC where I meet many new great friends. My divorce comes down while I am there, and everyone rallies around to give me support. My boss began sending me on the road training the software to loan officers. It helped to leave when everything was so volatile with my x. I remember the day KB came aboard to run the training department. We connected immediately. I often wonder where I'd be if it weren't for the concern of George and John, who also both rescue me again when ATG closes.
So here I am at that place again, looking for the thing that will change the direction of my life. George and John are retired, KB is figuring out her own stuff and many of my friends are hurting with the downturn of the loan business. Many of the once available technical jobs are now outsourced to India. I am frightened as my x and our broker are scrambling to keep everything going. I can smell it is time to jump from a sinking ship. Add to it the fact that I am still recovering from my thyroid symptoms. I worry if I can handle eight full hours and the stress that comes from a new career.
John writes me to tell me I sound down. He regularly reads the blog to see how I am doing. He concurs that I need a break, and I realize he is right. I will be divorced eight years come Halloween. I have been doing this dance without help for a long time. I am tired. I also don't write everything in my life as I still prefer to retain some privacy, while telling the story of a woman dealing with life as a single mother, and living with Hashimotos disease.
Now, I have made the choice to raise Brian by myself without a man. I promised myself that he will have the opportunity to grow up without dealing with a step-family. I didn't get divorced to get married again, I got divorced so that Brian can have a happy, peaceful childhood. This includes not living with a man, so I have a good seven more years to go. But I feel like I am right at the same place I was when I worked at the bank. I planned a different life for Brian and me, and I certainly didn't plan on getting so sick. The question remains, can I reinvent myself yet one more time?
This week will answer that question.
Until next time-
C
PS. Two months after leaving the bank, they hired a catering service for the board meetings. Eventually my whole department quit for better jobs.
http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/
