Nightmare. The word almost everyone has been using to describe this hot water situation. From my friends and coworkers, to the plumbing technicians, to the sales reps, to the contractors.
When the contractor came over to make holes in my ceiling, he brushed against a pipe that went to the hot water tank, and since it was almost rusted completely through, it snapped and started leaking. Water shoots out of the hole any time I turn the water on, so I’ve had to shut off the main valve. Now I have no water. I can’t wash my hands, I can’t go to the bathroom.
The exhaust pipe that goes to my furnace isn’t up to code anymore either, so even if I get all this work done on the house, my ceiling would have to be ripped up again when the furnace goes. And since mine is 12-years-old and rated for 15 years, it could die on me as soon as three years (or sooner). So I’ll be getting the furnace pipe replaced too, which essentially doubles my pipe installation costs.
In addition to moving as much furniture out of my room as possible into my guest room (thereby robbing me of my photo studio, Tai Chi practice area, bedroom, and main computer), I’ll have to cover the remaining things in sheets to protect them from the dust. When the piping is all replaced1, the contractor needs to come in and patch up the holes, scrape all the stipple off my ceiling, respray the stipple on, and repaint it. I don’t even have an estimate of how much that’s going to cost.
The house is my one area of stability. Where I retreat to when everything else is falling apart. The one place I need to be constant. I won’t feel settled until it’s all been resolved.
And to think that I was looking forward to the holidays. I was picturing myself enjoying my well-earned time off, eating bacon and eggs, playing a few games, and starting some new projects.
How far away the image seems now.
- And with luck, they won’t refuse to do the job because they don’t have enough clearance. [↩]