Citibank: The kick in the head that just keeps on giving

One of the things I was most looking forward to about having a full-time job was the possibility of refinancing the condo, which has now been on the market for nearly 19 months. I waited until I'd been getting a steady paycheck for three months before doing a little research on the subject. And let me tell you, what a downer.

Apparently, because I'm making considerably less than I did when I purchased the property (can't count overtime pay) the combination of mortgage, property taxes and assessments takes up roughly 77% of my income--and that's before they take out taxes. I cannot include H's contributions in this calculation because I would list the place as my primary residence. Also, remember the little old issue I had with Citibank? You know, the one where they said I couldn't qualify for any of the government bailout mortgage readjustment plans unless I was a full 30 days past due? And how, against every fiber of my being, I let it go past to get some help? And how they EFFING PROMISED me I'd get a readjustment and even took a check over the phone then COMPLETELY AND TOTALLY SCREWED ME OVER, INSINUATING THAT I MADE IT ALL UP? AND HOW THEY FRICKING SOLD MY MORTGAGE TO SOME COMPANY IN WISCONSIN BEFORE I COULD DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT?

Remember that? Well, the number-one reason I can't refinance is because I had a late payment in the last 12 months.

People who have to give up that much of their take-home pay to have a roof over their heads can't get a refinance, but if it only takes up 28% of your income, you can get a lower rate pretty easily. I mean, I get it, but I DON'T GET IT. Can anyone tell me what I'm doing wrong here, besides the obvious: I didn't have the foresight to know that my industry would collapse a decade after I chose my major? I mean, I thought it was smart to have put the place on the market while I still had a job. Now I get to look at doctors' scripts signed by contemporaries I used to go to the library with, while I've had to start over, wrangling their patients and getting passive-aggresively chewed out at least once an hour.

Yes, I realize that I'm not alone. And that I probably shouldn't complain. I thank heaven every day that the people I love have their health. I just pray that it stays that way.