Can a Brother Catch a Break?
The first world problems have been coming at us hard the past couple of weeks. Amidst the excitement of moving into our new house we started to experience a streak of serial disappointments so consistent that it seems scripted.
It started with a load of dishes, the first load in the new house, a milestone. Well, this milestone promptly leaked all over the kitchen floor and a quick check of the dishwasher's interior revealed a lake of dirty dishwater. WTF? Time to call a plumber.
We got a delightful Navy vet who told us funny stories while methodically disassembling the offending appliance. His diagnosis was technical and involved an additional $400. He was shaking his head as he told us the cost, indicating that, no, we did not want to spend that amount on a 20-year-old Whirlpool. Time for a new one, meaning time to hand over $1000 to Major Appliances, our local purveyor of kitchen machinery.
The same day we spent that money, we were forced to call the regional garage door experts because ours, while good at opening, was not so good at closing. That cost $100 for a fix that took our man 60 seconds to perform (realigning the sensors).
But wait, that's not all! My brother came for a rare overnight visit. When we woke up, the house was muggier than it should have been. This I discovered was a direct result of our now non-functional air conditioner. I called the HVAC company the moment they opened, but they couldn't get anyone out until late in the day. You take what you can get. Did I mention that here in southeastern North Carolina we were dealing with temps in the high 90s and humidity that never relents?
This repairman was a young but very competent fellow, who said "Technical, technical, technical. That will be $500."
I said "OK" because what else is there to say when you are deprived of one of life's great necessities.
That's still not all.
We went to our old house the next day to work on getting it clean as we prepare to put it on the market. I started to disassemble the refrigerator for cleaning when I found that the water was off. I angrily called the utilities company since we hadn't requested disconnection. The lady on the phone thought she was talking to a crazy person, because no one had turned off our water. Well, no one from the utility company had turned it off.
You know who did that? The thoughtful thieves who'd been under our house to steal the copper water lines, that's who did that. In the process they destroyed the water heater and the washing machine hookup. When the plumber came, not only did he discover that damage, he also found that all the galvanized drain lines (installed in 1965) were past the end of their life span. Even with a payout from our homeowners insurance, we had to pay four grand.
Thankfully, we've been able to roll with the punches and take care of each issue sequentially. Shit happens. I am still excited by the move. I spend a lot more time being grateful for that than I do letting my soul be corroded from useless self-pity. This bad luck streak will end. They always do. One of the things I'm grateful for is not being the kind of person who becomes homicidal when they are the victim of a property crime. While I hope the police catch this crew, I'm not giving them much pointless headspace. Wallowing in revenge fantasies isn't my thing.
Today's going to be a good day. Nothing has broken so far, although it is only 5:30 AM. Three of our grandkids are coming to spend the weekend, always a treat. That may be all the break I need.
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