Nothing’s really been happening, homebuying-wise, for a few weeks. No calls from the lender, from the attorney, or really from our agent. The only time I’ve spoken with M., our agent, was on Monday at our housecooling party, which was when he explained all this inactivity was due to what’s called The Quiet Period. I surreptitiously looked around and started talking in whispers, but that’s not what he meant.
Apparently, as buyers, the few weeks before the closing involve a lot of finger-drumming and idle whistling. Meanwhile, the attorneys on both sides engage in a ritual of furious fax-ocity. So it’s not too quiet for them, it seems. I guess it’s like a surprise party—they’re the throwers, furiously planning away up to the last minute, and we’re the guests of honor, minding our own business until the day of reckoning. “Surprise! You’re giving us all your money! (Hope no one spoiled it for you!)”
I’m glad I got that sorted out with M. The last time I was involved in a quiet period was when the dot-com I was working for tried to go public. And I think we all know how stories like that tend to turn out. So forgive me if I finding the quiet period a tad… disquieting.