My telephone and cable wires are coiled, hanging awkwardly from the utility pole behind my house. Whoever was providing the unsecure wireless network within range of my house back in 2004 turned it off sometime while I was away in the desert. The bottom line: Chris only has internet at home if he drives around the neighborhood and finds other unsecured wireless connections (which, technically, is still not “at homeâ€).
Hence, the blog postings you have enjoyed (or suffered through) for the last 6 months have all been written hastily on lunch breaks or late afternoons in the office. This one I am writing in Microsoft word, in bed, sans internet connection. Now I have time to really, really bore you with my ramblings about home renovation and how it consumes you so entirely that you have nothing else to blog about.
My plumber started today, which is getting me one step closer to close-in. The electrician should finish up tomorrow, and have his rough inspection in hand. The plumber will be another couple of days next week, and I still haven’t awarded a contract to an HVAC guy. HVAC, it turns out, will be the biggest cause of delay outside of having a full time job and working in the winter (pretty significant delays in and of themselves).
I am still trying to sell my Audi TT, my coming home gift, impulsively purchased with no regard to the consequences. Reality set in a few months ago that:
1)    I can’t afford to maintain and insure a car like this, or to keep fueling it up with premium on my salary.
2)Â Â Â Â The city will take its toll in dinged bumpers, exhausted struts, and dirt.
3)Â Â Â Â The sale price is almost exactly what I need to finish the addition without settling some kind of new loan.
In fact, every other option I had to borrow money has somehow fallen through in the past 6 months, for one reason or another, which I consider to be fate smacking me in the head and saying. “Chris, you’re not that awesome or rich. Sell the damn car.â€Â Duh.
I figure if it’s meant to be, someday in the not too distant future I’ll be sitting in a similar European sports car, except it will be better, faster, and paid for in cash. It was my dream car, but you can’t live dreams on credit.
I figured I’d try Carmax, just to see what kind of number they would throw out there. 2 hours after I walked in, the not-so-enthusiastic salesmen showed me a quote of $15,000. That’s $5,500 less than I paid for the vehicle 6 months, not to mention almost $1000 in state taxes and $500 for new tires, and I’m not even going to talk about how much it cost to insure. I’m going to hold out until the weather gets warmer, and hope someone replies to my blue-book equivalent asking price of $19,000. Sigh.
I popped into Hull Street Blues after my disappointing CarMax experience, and ran into one of my neighbors who proceeded to explain how the households nextdoor to him in no way helped the cause of preventing snowmelt from building up in front of their houses and freezing into an 6†thick slab of ice. Every year he says it’s preventable, but nobody wants to help.
As he left to move his double-parked car (yes, he double parked in front of the bar for a drink), Jessica Wescott entered the bar with Papa John. Jessica is a friend, neighbor, and also my former landlord (I rented a room from her and fell in love with the neighborhood back in 2003). Papa John is the father of one of her neighbors, who is taking care of his daughter and son-in-law’s dogs while they are vacationing in Thailand. Pretty random, huh? She invited me to join them for dinner, which was good because I was planning on coming home, eating a hot pocket, watching whatever I could tune in on my rabbit ear antenna on TV and hitting the sack.
Jess is in the middle of renovations on her house, and I asked to check out the progress after dinner. She’s gutted the first floor, leveled and sistered all the joists, and her boyfriend Jim was in the midst of laying out her new staircase. It’s a ton different than when I lived there. Jess has been mentioning a lot of the same “renovation headaches†that I keep whining about, such as incessant dust, no time or money, added stress, and having to camp out somewhere other than your home. She’s let me do laundry and take showers there a few times. If I can get my house done, I will reciprocate until she finishes hers.
I’m gearing up for insulation next week. Avoiding taking any more time off work, I think insulating my entire addition can be done in two nights, one spent picking it all up and bringing it to the house, and the other with 3 people cutting and installing it. Then it’s inspection time, and she’s ready for drywall!
Good night!
-C