So, today is February 23rd. According to my initial meeting with my consultant and contractor, at which we signed the contract for the renovation, work was supposed to be done by Christmas.
That means it's almost two months past the initial deadline. And... it's still not finished. I am not pleased. At all.
There's been errors with our draw requests for the 203K funds almost every time we've submitted them - the math has been wrong, the form is outdated, or (as it turns out!) the appliance store can't receive a check directly - something my consultant had never warned me about. That's only for cabinets and plumbing supplies. Those had to be purchased out of pocket, paid for by my dear, dear, dear mother and her credit card with a limit that, compared to mine, seems to reach all the way to the stars. And now she just has to wait to be reimbursed, praying all the while that the paperwork doesn't get screwed up - again.
In the meantime, the house has been sitting. And sitting. And sitting. Again! Little things have been done here and there, but without any money coming in, I really can't blame Tony for not having his guys there around the clock. After all, until last week? My bank owed him $9,000. Yes, nine thousand dollars. Almost a full third of the $34,000 in work we're having done. It finally arrived last Friday, nearly a month after putting in the draw request. Nice, huh? That's a story in and of itself, which includes me having a conversation with employees at the local post office that seriously contained the following blindingly brilliant lines of dialogue:
"Well, there's another mailbox at the house now."
"Where is it?"
"Out front."
"Well, none of our carriers have been able to find it any of the times they've been there!"
"...It's the big black metal box next to the front door that has the word "MAIL" stamped on it."
(Ohhh, if only that were hyperbole. How I wish. How I wish!)
On the upside, with the check received and cashed, we can finally move forward. The appliances have been delivered. The bathroom is (almost) finished - and I'm having a complete mental breakdown about whether I want to paint it grey or paint it yellow. The grouting is done, the cabinets are installed, and the light fixture has been hung up. Nice! I'm just hoping that the news will be good from here on out. If it isn't, with the way paying rent and a mortgage has been sucking away the contents of my savings account? I don't know what we're going to do.
On the downside, we've discovered that the water line leading to the tub is leaking, a fact which was brought to my attention when I stopped by and discovered a part of my living room ceiling wet and crumbled all atop my boxes of yet-to-be-assembled Ikea furniture. Part of the wall behind that hideous wood panelling has crumbled, which we found when the front door that I so passionately despise after being locked out countless times was replaced, and someone who specializes in plaster will have to be called - once we find out how extensive the damage is. The sewer line is also clogged and backing up into the kitchen, which I found while waiting for the appliances to arrive. It has to be snaked to clear it out and, well, I'm hoping that's all. Otherwise, I am - as the French say, "le screwed".
In short, there is a tiny part of me that has started to hate this house and says "We're never moving in!"
That means it's almost two months past the initial deadline. And... it's still not finished. I am not pleased. At all.
There's been errors with our draw requests for the 203K funds almost every time we've submitted them - the math has been wrong, the form is outdated, or (as it turns out!) the appliance store can't receive a check directly - something my consultant had never warned me about. That's only for cabinets and plumbing supplies. Those had to be purchased out of pocket, paid for by my dear, dear, dear mother and her credit card with a limit that, compared to mine, seems to reach all the way to the stars. And now she just has to wait to be reimbursed, praying all the while that the paperwork doesn't get screwed up - again.
In the meantime, the house has been sitting. And sitting. And sitting. Again! Little things have been done here and there, but without any money coming in, I really can't blame Tony for not having his guys there around the clock. After all, until last week? My bank owed him $9,000. Yes, nine thousand dollars. Almost a full third of the $34,000 in work we're having done. It finally arrived last Friday, nearly a month after putting in the draw request. Nice, huh? That's a story in and of itself, which includes me having a conversation with employees at the local post office that seriously contained the following blindingly brilliant lines of dialogue:
"Well, there's another mailbox at the house now."
"Where is it?"
"Out front."
"Well, none of our carriers have been able to find it any of the times they've been there!"
"...It's the big black metal box next to the front door that has the word "MAIL" stamped on it."
(Ohhh, if only that were hyperbole. How I wish. How I wish!)
On the upside, with the check received and cashed, we can finally move forward. The appliances have been delivered. The bathroom is (almost) finished - and I'm having a complete mental breakdown about whether I want to paint it grey or paint it yellow. The grouting is done, the cabinets are installed, and the light fixture has been hung up. Nice! I'm just hoping that the news will be good from here on out. If it isn't, with the way paying rent and a mortgage has been sucking away the contents of my savings account? I don't know what we're going to do.
On the downside, we've discovered that the water line leading to the tub is leaking, a fact which was brought to my attention when I stopped by and discovered a part of my living room ceiling wet and crumbled all atop my boxes of yet-to-be-assembled Ikea furniture. Part of the wall behind that hideous wood panelling has crumbled, which we found when the front door that I so passionately despise after being locked out countless times was replaced, and someone who specializes in plaster will have to be called - once we find out how extensive the damage is. The sewer line is also clogged and backing up into the kitchen, which I found while waiting for the appliances to arrive. It has to be snaked to clear it out and, well, I'm hoping that's all. Otherwise, I am - as the French say, "le screwed".
In short, there is a tiny part of me that has started to hate this house and says "We're never moving in!"
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