A WAILING AND GNASHING OF TEETH
For a homeowner, “you have to find a contractor” are words of doom. You may live in a small town, in which case all contractors worth a hoot are all booked up, or you may live in a suburban or urban area, in which case finding one (a) reliable enough to actually turn up, (b) able to carry the job through to the end without delays, or (c) talent to do the job in a professional manner, seems almost impossible.
After the recent water damage to our home, we have had many, many strangers coming in and out. Most of them are telling us that what we want to happen will not happen, for one reason or another. Some of them simply don’t turn up when they say they are going to, and when they do, they don’t explain their absence.
I am supposed to be grateful that they show up at all, presumably.
If I sound disillusioned and disgruntled, you’ve read me right. I am. I am at the stage where I know some obstruction to each phase of the repair will pop up. Most often, this obstruction will require hiring yet another subcontractor. The aperture will be too narrow, or too wide. Sometimes the workmen will have to leave to “get a part,” and will not return for days.
I have counted all my blessings, believe me. I am lucky to have insurance. I am lucky to be able to pay our deductible. I am lucky to have an intact home at all. But I’m finding those reminders will only carry me so far. Right now, I feel mad and powerless. You know when the floor people can come? Next year. That’s right. Next year.
Sooner or later, I will be able to look back on this and laugh. But it will be a long, long time.
Maybe after next year.