I should be somewhere else

Here I am, at work.
I shouldn't be at work today.
I should be at a lawyer's office in Seneca, signing closing paperwork to sell my house. I had an appointment there, at 11 a.m. This appointment has been set up for two weeks. I requested a day off work, cancelled a conference I was supposed to attend in Columbia, cleared my entire schedule, made sure I had all the correct documents...in short, I did everything I was supposed to do.
However, some schmuck at Wachovia dropped the ball, and now the buyer's paperwork isn't going to be ready until Monday. The buyer, unfortunately, works until 7 p.m. on Mondays. Which means we can't meet to sign paperwork until 7:30 at the earliest.
Did I mention that this all takes place in a little town called Seneca, which is approximately an hour's drive from where I live? Where I live currently alone with my four-year-old child? Whose bedtime is 8:30 p.m.?
Can you see how incredibly convenient this reschedule is for me?
My Realtor explained that the paperwork delay was due to the recent financial crisis. Yeah, the crisis that was caused, in part, by banks lending money to people to whom they shouldn't have been lending it?
Dear Wachovia:
I respectfully invite you to quit lending money to deadbeats with bad credit, so that you will have time to finish my paperwork so I can sell my house.
Bite me,
Amy