Our laptop died just before our 341 meeting, so that spared you all a barrage of 341-related questions from me, haha.
We dressed modestly -- black cotton dress and low pumps for me, dockers, belt, and polo top for DH. He didn't match (olive dockers with a maroon and grey striped polo) but I didn't have the heart to tell him that. I figured the trustee might take pity on a man who doesn't know that olive and grey are not the same color.
We brought our 4.5 month old daughter with us because I am nursing and she drinks from the tap. We were a little concerned that this would be a problem but we had been reassured by our legal asst and well, what else were we going to do?
We planned to arrive plenty early but ended up being just on time.
Security was fairly stringent at the court house, which was unexpected.
As my heels clacked against the floor of the seemingly endless hallway leading to bankruptcy court a rolling wave of anxiety hit me. We were ready to be judged for being financially incompetent.
The "court" was actually two small attached rooms. The waiting room was cozy and almost standing room only. We managed to weave our way to a couple empty seats and got settled.
I looked around at all the people and tried to imagine their circumstances. Were they like us? Maybe someone had suffered a catastrophic medical disaster. Maybe someone lost their job. Is that a designer bag? Oooh I wouldn't have brought that.
The lawyers had a long table in the center of the room and seemed very relaxed and familiar with each other. They laughed and joked. Britney Spears was brought up more than once.
DH and surveyed the lawyers, trying to determine which imposing suited figure belonged to us. The lawyer representing us was part of the practice and not someone we had met yet.
We were both too nervous to approach the table and ask.
The room was mostly silent except for the cackling of the lawyers. A few couples seemed to know each other and whispered back and forth uncomfortably.
The attire was mostly very everyday. Capri pants. Boots and jeans. Flip-flops. Big, colorful purses.
DH and I sat there, diverting our attention to our daughter to detract from our fear and nervousness. We talked and joked back and forth under our breath. Frequently I had to stop and breath deeply to combat the powerful surges of anxiety.
As we sat, we watched people leave and enter the room. From the corner of his eye, DH noticed someone from his work lurking around the entrance of the room. He ducked his head and whispered to me, "I know that guy. He works at the hospital."
As my DH spoke the words, this "guy from work" entered the room, looked around and nodded at us. He crossed the room and sat in the now empty seat beside us.
Oh crap.
As it turns out, and as we should have realized, he was also there to file for bankruptcy. How funny that on our day, at our time, was a co-worker of DH's, also filing for bankruptcy.
I think it's akin to being in a bar when a fellow church member walks in. Heh.
We had a nice long chat with him. Emphasis on long. Court was backed up and our wait time was a couple of hours. The pins and needles feeling was amplified by every passing minute.
As the room became almost empty and the lawyers were talking about dinner plans, our name was called.
We discovered which lawyer was ours, finally.
The trustee was inside a tiny room, sitting at a long table. He was dressed in Southwest splendor in a Western-inspired suit, a bolo tie, and plenty of big gold rings.
His expression was not menacing, nor was it forgiving.
He turned on a tape recorder and swore us in. We showed him our IDs and social security cards. He then asked questions pulled exactly from the list our lawyer had given us. Yes or no questions. Nothing more, nothing less. Just the list.
Then we were finished. It took less than 10 minutes.
When it was over we were ecstatic. Such a light, breezy, free feeling. It was over. And it wasn't painful or ruinous or embarrassing. The 341 was behind us.
I took off my shoes the minute I got back in the car. Ahhhhhh. Done!
Now for the 60 day wait.
We dressed modestly -- black cotton dress and low pumps for me, dockers, belt, and polo top for DH. He didn't match (olive dockers with a maroon and grey striped polo) but I didn't have the heart to tell him that. I figured the trustee might take pity on a man who doesn't know that olive and grey are not the same color.
We brought our 4.5 month old daughter with us because I am nursing and she drinks from the tap. We were a little concerned that this would be a problem but we had been reassured by our legal asst and well, what else were we going to do?
We planned to arrive plenty early but ended up being just on time.
Security was fairly stringent at the court house, which was unexpected.
As my heels clacked against the floor of the seemingly endless hallway leading to bankruptcy court a rolling wave of anxiety hit me. We were ready to be judged for being financially incompetent.
The "court" was actually two small attached rooms. The waiting room was cozy and almost standing room only. We managed to weave our way to a couple empty seats and got settled.
I looked around at all the people and tried to imagine their circumstances. Were they like us? Maybe someone had suffered a catastrophic medical disaster. Maybe someone lost their job. Is that a designer bag? Oooh I wouldn't have brought that.
The lawyers had a long table in the center of the room and seemed very relaxed and familiar with each other. They laughed and joked. Britney Spears was brought up more than once.
DH and surveyed the lawyers, trying to determine which imposing suited figure belonged to us. The lawyer representing us was part of the practice and not someone we had met yet.
We were both too nervous to approach the table and ask.
The room was mostly silent except for the cackling of the lawyers. A few couples seemed to know each other and whispered back and forth uncomfortably.
The attire was mostly very everyday. Capri pants. Boots and jeans. Flip-flops. Big, colorful purses.
DH and I sat there, diverting our attention to our daughter to detract from our fear and nervousness. We talked and joked back and forth under our breath. Frequently I had to stop and breath deeply to combat the powerful surges of anxiety.
As we sat, we watched people leave and enter the room. From the corner of his eye, DH noticed someone from his work lurking around the entrance of the room. He ducked his head and whispered to me, "I know that guy. He works at the hospital."
As my DH spoke the words, this "guy from work" entered the room, looked around and nodded at us. He crossed the room and sat in the now empty seat beside us.
Oh crap.
As it turns out, and as we should have realized, he was also there to file for bankruptcy. How funny that on our day, at our time, was a co-worker of DH's, also filing for bankruptcy.
I think it's akin to being in a bar when a fellow church member walks in. Heh.
We had a nice long chat with him. Emphasis on long. Court was backed up and our wait time was a couple of hours. The pins and needles feeling was amplified by every passing minute.
As the room became almost empty and the lawyers were talking about dinner plans, our name was called.
We discovered which lawyer was ours, finally.
The trustee was inside a tiny room, sitting at a long table. He was dressed in Southwest splendor in a Western-inspired suit, a bolo tie, and plenty of big gold rings.
His expression was not menacing, nor was it forgiving.
He turned on a tape recorder and swore us in. We showed him our IDs and social security cards. He then asked questions pulled exactly from the list our lawyer had given us. Yes or no questions. Nothing more, nothing less. Just the list.
Then we were finished. It took less than 10 minutes.
When it was over we were ecstatic. Such a light, breezy, free feeling. It was over. And it wasn't painful or ruinous or embarrassing. The 341 was behind us.
I took off my shoes the minute I got back in the car. Ahhhhhh. Done!
Now for the 60 day wait.
NO ASSET
Bankruptcy Wizard
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