Personal Statement

Personal Statement

Monday, March 26, 2012

Countdown to the New Old House: FML, Sort Of

My platonic love affair with my cabinetmaker may be ending.


I knew that, inevitably, there would be miscommunications and mistakes arising therefrom.  Not my first rodeo, and, actually, a good part of my job involves helping people work through and around those types of problems.  So I'm probably better equipped than most to roll with the punches.  Also, fully recognized that it's hard to fabricate cabinets for a kitchen that has no floor.  For six consecutive months.

Nevertheless . . . well, I'll spare you all of the gory the details, but, among other items, I might be tearing out the 24-inch-square sheetrocked column that we paid to have constructed around an existing 19-inch-square chimney column.  A chimney column that, by the by, my husband loves, because of the exposed brick aspect.  But we sheetrocked it in, because that was our understanding, because it was depicted on every drawing that had been circulated, and also addressed in a couple of e-mails, but now we find out that Cabinetmaker thought that the sheetrocked column would be 19 inches square, which, I'm sorry, makes no sense, because:

(1) It's impossible to build a 19-inch box around something that is, actually, TECHNICALLY, 19 1/2 inches by 19 1/4 inches and made of brick; and, also,

(2) The man has a tape measure, doesn't he?  I mean, it's part of his job.  So he knew that we were starting from 19 inches.  Why draw a box around a smaller box with the intent of making the larger box 19 inches when you know that the smaller box is 19 inches?

Anyway.  Option #1 is to tear out sheetrock and framing, texture a flippin' five-inch wide strip of wall on both sides of the chimney (plus, I guess, some ceiling) and touch up JUST A STRIP OF PAINT all of the way around.  Option #2 is to shorten the cabinets that tee into that corner, which is actually okay with me, ON ACCOUNT OF HOW I NEVER KNEW THAT I WAS GETTING THAT EXTRA FIVE INCHES, ANYWAY.  (Sorry, don't mean to be screaming at you.)

I have decided that I don't care one way or the other - someone needs to fix the problem, at minimal or no cost to me, without me having to expend a lot of brain cells thinking about it. Because I have precious few working brain cells left.  And, also, it's my job to puzzle these things out for other people, so I'd just as soon not bother on my own time.

I am likewise trying to roll with the punches re: the facts that:

(A) However things are reconfigured, there is going to be a small cabinet (actually, two, upper and lower) between the pantry and the column that I will have to put a countertop on.  Not a lot of countertop, in the grand scheme of things - a scrap, really - but I am confident that the countertop people will find a way to make me overpay for it.

(B) Cabinetmaker notched in one of the lower cabinets to create doorway clearance - a decision that I don't recall discussing, and a detail that failed to catch my attention or Spouse's when we approved the elevations.  Said cabinet recess translates into a segment of countertop that is not the same width for its entire length, which will require "specialty fabrication" (translation:  another overpayment).

(C) I don't think that Cabinetmaker has actually built our island yet.  I'm actually okay with this, as something that is not built is something that hasn't been built incorrectly.  So, rather than fix it, we'll build it right the first time, now that we can actually see how the room will lay out and stuff.


Apologies again - it turns out that I didn't spare you any of the gory details after all.

So I have a bit of a black cloud over my head, although I feel pretty guilty about it - I mean, worrying about home remodeling costs implies that you have a home to remodel and some wherewithal to pay for it, so fully realized that there are worse problems to have, right?  But even THAT thought depresses me, because the subtext is that my life is generally too good for me to ever be justified in indulging in depression - which is, kind of in itself, depressing.

So I chose to vent by posting "FML" as my Facebook status -  and then (because I was too defeated by cabinet issues to fully focus on work) I decided to check out the Web site.

Which turned out to be a good decision, because I found myself laughing at most of the entries, which made me realize that the best response to my own current dilemma is probably laughter, as well.

Today, I got a flat tire in the middle of nowhere. I called AAA, and they said it would take 2 hours to get there. They called 2 hours later saying they got a flat tire and would be there in another 2 hours.

Okay, now that I re-read that, I shouldn't be laughing, because being in the middle of nowhere can be scary, depending on what "nowhere" we're talking about.  Could be terrifying.  But the general concept of the tow truck getting a flat made me chuckle.

Today, my friend and I went for a late night walk along the beach. We decided to sit down on a log. It was a dead seal.

Again, I'm sure that this wasn't funny in the moment, but reading about it after the fact - well, it certainly puts perspective on my situation.  I think it's a pretty safe assumption that at no point during the pendency of our restoration/remodel will I - intentionally or accidentally - end up sitting on a dead seal.  Although I guess I can't rule it out for sure.

Today, my parents woke me up at 4 am and informed me of their impending divorce. They then woke me up again three hours later and told me “never mind”. This same routine happens several times a month.

This one did not make me laugh.  This is not an FML so much as a "WTF"?  Patting myself on the back for having much better parenting skills than at least one other mother out there.

Today, my eight year old son came to me and said he thinks it’s time he started wearing bras. It turns out his older brother has been mind-f***ing him for the past several months and has him convinced it’s something all boys his age do. I can’t convince him otherwise. 

Okay, THAT's flat-out funny.  As a mother of two boys, I can laugh at that one.  Particularly because it's not about MY two boys.  (Yeah, yeah - there but for the grace of God and all.  Fairly sure that I would laugh about it if it WAS my two boys.)

Today, I went on a date with a seemingly nice guy I met online. He was drunk when I got there. Within the first 10 minutes, he had told me I was “like Hitler but with boobs”, and I was “offensive to the ninja community.” Then he said I just wasn’t all he had hoped for and left.

Again:  FLAT-OUT FUNNY.  I want to be friends with this guy - if (as I hope) he wasn't all that drunk and was just trying to get out of a bad situation.  I mean, drunk or not, I seriously doubt that anyone would make those comments and actually intend for them to be taken seriously.  That, or the author is leaving out some context.

Am now waiting for an opening in conversation where I can not-completely-nonsensically tell someone that they are "like Hitler but with boobs" and/or "offensive to the ninja community."

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