The last job I had before my current position was working for an architect. My duties there were designing and drafting residential additions and remodels, and drafting new residential and commercial spaces. I loved that job and was really sad to have to leave, due to the shitty economy making it difficult for the general population to spend money on custom homes. I had been given a heads-up by my boss that because of our drastic decrease in clients, he might have to lay me off within a few months, so that's how I ended up switching gears from architecture to engineering where I landed my current job. But while I was working at that architectural firm, I was forced to work with a real douchebag of a contractor, Mr. Cosgrove.
Our architectural firm had formed relationships with about 40 local contractors. It was the kind of thing where if a client came to us first and needed a contractor, we would make referrals from our list of builders, and if a client found one of those contractors first and was in need of an architect, that builder would refer the client to our company. So every once in awhile, we would do a project with Mr. Cosgrove as our client's builder.
This guy hated me from the start. I don't want to blame it all on the fact that I'm a girl (that only seemed to be part of the problem). It was also based on the fact that I was hired in an entry level position, with my knowledge mostly as an AutoCAD operator. I didn't really know too much about how a house was actually built. As I mentioned in a previous blog, my Interior Design education rewarded an "A" for being able to point to a furnace. My boss didn't see that as an issue though. He knew that everyone at the company had their own specialties and when you put all our individual skills together we made a great team. But Mr. Cosgrove expected everyone that he had to deal with to be as knowledgeable as he was. And with his 20-something years of building experience, there was just no possible way that I could ever live up to his high expectations.
In my first encounter with him, he popped into our office and asked who had been assigned to his project. I said that I was and he said he had some things to go over with me from our preliminary plans. He unrolled his set of drawings, and it looked like he had used an entire box of red pencils marking up comments, questions and changes, which he immediately began nailing me with. At one point, he questioned why I had called out a 32" door for the laundry room. I replied that was our company standard. The conversation continued:
Mr. C: "I've got a client with an oversized washer and dryer picked out. How the hell do you think I'm going to get those into a room with a 32" door opening?!"
Me: "Oh. Well we weren't aware of the client's appliance choices. It's no problem to make that a larger door to accommodate the washer and dryer size though, that now that we know about it."
Mr. C: .....*sigh*....."You clearly haven't been doing this very long, have you?"
Me: (a little stunned) "....No, not too long."
Mr. C: "What were you doing before this?"
Me: "I was in Interior Design school."
Mr. C: "Well I can pick out my own paint colors. What I need from my architect is someone who thinks through the details of how I'm actually going to be able to build what you draw on these plans. Is the boss around? I'm going to go talk to him about this."
He walked himself back to the boss's office and shut the door. They were in there for at least a half hour, after which the boss walked Mr. Cosgrove to the front door, shook his hand, and walked back to his office. He never said anything to me about the incident. Like I mentioned earlier, my boss was smart enough to know that not everyone in the office brought the same skills to the table. I was never assigned to another one of Mr. Cosgrove's projects after that, but I still had to finish what I started with that current job.
The second time I had to deal with Mr. Cosgrove was over the phone. He called and asked for me. I picked up the phone:
Mr. C: "I don't have my plans with me, but I need to know the dimension of the largest wall in the kitchen?"
Me: "I don't know that off the top of my head. Let me put you on hold a second while I grab your prints and look that up for you."
Mr. C: "Oh, forget it! Let me talk to O."
O got on the phone and Mr. Cosgrove said:
"I don't have my plans with me, but I need to know the dimension of the largest wall in the kitchen?"
O: "I don't know that off the top of my head. Let me put you on hold a second while I grab your prints and look that up for you."
Mr. C: "No problem. I appreciate your help. I can wait while you look it up."
O gave him the answer, hung up the phone, and said to me, "Why didn't he just ask you that?"
Me: "Because he's an asshole!"
O: "Yeah, apparently."
Me: "I hate that guy so much. I just want to smash his testicles into the ground!"
O: "Wow. I better not get on your bad side."
Later that week I was telling that story to one of my buddies and he said that I should make that my signature move (like if I was in GLOW)...smashing testicles into the ground...and that I should call the move "Going Cosgrove."
It's no Alabama Slammer, but it's still pretty awesome. So guys...don't get on my bad side :)
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Fanatic by Association
I couldn't care less about sports. My parents aren't sports fans so it was never something that I grew up around, and I'm not athletic so I never had any interest in playing sports. My lack of love for the game however, puts me in such a minority that I've discovered it makes things somewhat easier to just pretend that I do have an interest in sports.
Plus, my husband is the biggest sports fanatic that I've ever met. Ever. He's most likely the biggest sports fan that you've ever met too. His knowledge of sports trivia blows my mind. You could ask him a totally obscure question like, "Who was the MVP of the Kansas State Junior Women's Volleyball team in 1972?" and my husband would effing know the answer (if that is something that even exists, since I know zero about sports...).
So for the record, during baseball season I root for the Yankees (because my husband is a Yankees fan), during hockey season I root for the Blackhawks (because everyone in Chicago roots for the Blackhawks), during basketball season I root for the Lakers (because Anthony Kiedis is from L.A.), and during football season I'm a "fan" of U of M and the Indianapolis Colts.
It's gotten to be that time of year again where I can pull out my Michigan fleece from the coat closet and put on my Colts winter knit cap and wear them around like I care about the team's stats. It got awkward enough when someone at the train station asked me if Michigan had won that past weekend and I didn't know the answer, so I downloaded a Michigan app and an NFL app on my phone so that I can check the scores without actually having to bother watching the games. And I pay attention to things my husband mentions or things that I read on Facebook about my teams so that I can participate in sports conversations at work, chiming in things like, "Where was their defense?" or "Eli Manning is such an asshole!"
And my liking of the Colts has absolutely nothing to do with sports at all. And I'm really just a Peyton Manning fan, not actually a Colts fan. And my liking of Peyton Manning is not at all because he's an excellent QB. It's because I saw him host SNL and he was really funny. So yes, I root for the Colts because Peyton Manning is funny. If he ever left the Colts, I would start rooting for whatever team he went to. And if he has to quit playing due to his neck problems, I guess I will just have to wait for another pro football player to host SNL and make me laugh.
Plus, my husband is the biggest sports fanatic that I've ever met. Ever. He's most likely the biggest sports fan that you've ever met too. His knowledge of sports trivia blows my mind. You could ask him a totally obscure question like, "Who was the MVP of the Kansas State Junior Women's Volleyball team in 1972?" and my husband would effing know the answer (if that is something that even exists, since I know zero about sports...).
So for the record, during baseball season I root for the Yankees (because my husband is a Yankees fan), during hockey season I root for the Blackhawks (because everyone in Chicago roots for the Blackhawks), during basketball season I root for the Lakers (because Anthony Kiedis is from L.A.), and during football season I'm a "fan" of U of M and the Indianapolis Colts.
My choice to cheer for Michigan was an easy one. I was born in Ann Arbor and when it comes to sports, most people seem to cheer for their home team. I only lived there until I was about 9 months old, but my parents had been there for quite a few years and they were Blue fans even after we moved to another state, so it seemed reasonable enough for me to like the team too.
And Michigan was coincidentally a team that my husband has been a fan of since childhood, so when I mentioned something about liking the team he got all excited that we had something sports-related in common. For his 30th birthday I took him to his first game at The Big House and we both had a really great time. I however, enjoy going to games for a different reason. I don't understand the rules of football, and everything happens so fast. I feel like when a flag is thrown, I seem to be the only person in the stands who didn't see the false start, or the guy who grabbed someone's face mask, or the guy who's pinky toe went out of bounds. So in my constant confusion, I find that for me going to a game is really all about singing along with the marching band or participating in The Wave.
It's gotten to be that time of year again where I can pull out my Michigan fleece from the coat closet and put on my Colts winter knit cap and wear them around like I care about the team's stats. It got awkward enough when someone at the train station asked me if Michigan had won that past weekend and I didn't know the answer, so I downloaded a Michigan app and an NFL app on my phone so that I can check the scores without actually having to bother watching the games. And I pay attention to things my husband mentions or things that I read on Facebook about my teams so that I can participate in sports conversations at work, chiming in things like, "Where was their defense?" or "Eli Manning is such an asshole!"
And my liking of the Colts has absolutely nothing to do with sports at all. And I'm really just a Peyton Manning fan, not actually a Colts fan. And my liking of Peyton Manning is not at all because he's an excellent QB. It's because I saw him host SNL and he was really funny. So yes, I root for the Colts because Peyton Manning is funny. If he ever left the Colts, I would start rooting for whatever team he went to. And if he has to quit playing due to his neck problems, I guess I will just have to wait for another pro football player to host SNL and make me laugh.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Magneto
I think I've briefly explained my job to you before; that I take half-legible scribbles of electrical layouts and make them look pretty in AutoCAD. One of the guys who has always provided me with such scribbles is a guy that one of my buddies very accurately nicknamed Magneto. As in, the character in the X-Men comics and movies who can manipulate metal with his magnetic super powers. The nickname was given to him (behind his back) because he wears a bangle bracelet everyday that is constantly clinking against his desk. Constantly. And although I'm pretty sure that the actual Magneto character doesn't use a bracelet to activate his power (I think he just creepily reaches towards the metal and thinks real hard), it was just so funny when my buddy came up with that nickname that logistics aside, the name stuck.
There have been times where I've said I hate this guy. There have been times where I've wanted to punch him in the face. Hard. There have been times when I've wished that he'd be hit by a bus. Hard. Not killed by a bus, but injured to the point where he'd be put on permanent disability.
However, please don't think I'm such a horrible person yet. My super strong dislike of Magneto is totally justified:
First of all, I work in a very male-dominant environment. There are 143 people in my department. 14 of us are women. There was a day that I was feeling sick and I had been working on Magneto's project. He could see and hear that I wasn't feeling well, so he came over to me and said, "If you need to go home, don't feel bad about it. I know that I never talk to you -- because you're a girl -- but I talk to the guys all the time and I tell them that it's more important to take care of yourself so that you can be feeling your best at work and be able to focus on the job."
So #1, he's got an issue with my gender.
Secondly, every time he gives me work to do, he takes forever to explain every single little mark-up to me. And he'd start off by saying, "All of these changes are self-explanatory, but I'll explain them to you anyway." And his explanations would be like, "Okay, see this here, I added the letter "L" to the end of this word. It was misspelled P-A-N-E, but the word is supposed to be P-A-N-E-L actually. Panel. So I've added this letter "L" to the end of the word to make it correctly say "Panel" and then you'll circle the "L" to show people that you've corrected the spelling mistake." I'm not exaggerating. All that, just for an "L." And he had really nice handwriting too, so it's not as if he just wanted to make sure I could read his comments. He apparently just thought that I wouldn't be able to figure out what he meant.
So #2, he thinks I'm really stupid. Probably cause I'm a girl.
Thirdly, there was a particular incident where another guy had given me mark-ups to draft and that guy is the type who knows what he means in his head, but has trouble putting it down on paper. So he gives me half-done mark-ups. Sometimes it's obvious that information is missing and I can ask him for clarification. But other times it's not obvious. So I'd draft per his mark-ups and move on. Magneto was the independent reviewer on this particular project and noticed during his review that some things were missing. He called me into a meeting, along with the guy who gave me the half-missing work, and Magneto started lecturing me about how I shouldn't be afraid to ask questions. I tried to explain that the reason I didn't ask questions was because I thought everything was fine. It wasn't that I was afraid to ask, it's that I didn't know there was a question to be asked. As if he didn't hear a thing I said, he continued with his lecture about how important it is to ask questions so that we don't have to waste time doing things twice. There was no lecture given to the other guy about making sure his mark-ups were complete.
So #3, he's an asshole.
There was another time when I was working on one of Magneto's projects and I didn't quite understand his mark-up, so I asked him to clarify it. He answered the question, and then went on to lecture me about how I shouldn't hesitate to ask him any questions because it's better to ask, rather than make a wrong guess and have to do things twice. WTF am I getting lectured for now?!? Obviously I'm not afraid to ask questions, because I just asked a fucking question!! WTF is wrong with this guy?!?
So #4, he's a fucking idiot douchbag asshole.
But this past Thursday was his last day! He pretty much got forced into retirement. He's in his mid-60's and has been with the company for 27 years. He's talked before about retiring, but the boss has always been able to talk him into sticking around for a couple more years. But after all the shit that went on with our work being taken to the Chattanooga office, the boss gave Magneto an ultimatum. He basically told Magneto he had two choices. 1) Go to Chattanooga for the entire three months, or 2) Take his retirement. Magneto's got some health issues and, therefore, didn't want to be far from home in case something happened and he ended up in the hospital, or worse. So he said he couldn't go to Tennessee. Not even for a few weeks. Which forced him to take option #2.
He announced his retirement to our small group of 11 on August 30, making September 15 his last day. And as much as I dislike him, and as much as I was counting down the days along with him, I still felt a little bit sad for him. Even though he'd talked about retirement in the past, he clearly was not excited about it anymore. And as if our supervisor was unaware that Magneto didn't actually want to retire, J kept making comments like, "Did you see the stock market dropped again today? I sure wouldn't want to be without a steady paycheck in this economy." Like J thought he could scare Magneto into keeping his job and going to Chattanooga or something? It was pretty awkward.
So I came into work Thursday and J was telling me that I'd be working on Magneto's project and I said, "Oh wow, today is his last day. Yeah, gotta get his project done before he leaves." And J said, "Shit. I forgot." So without a cake, a card, or anything else to acknowledge Magneto's last day, J put me and C on a project to create an 18" x 24" poster that everyone Magneto works with in the company could sign. Since I sit in the same quad as Magneto, we decided it would work best if C made the poster on his computer, and since I've been at the company longer than C and had a better idea of who Magneto's friends and coworkers were, it was my job to go around the building asking people to sign it.
C had come up with a really nice sentiment to go in the center of the poster. Something like "You are one of a kind and will truly be missed. Your knowledge and dedication to the job has been a great help to us all and we will never forget you." So poster in hand, I was off to get people to sign it. J and the boss took Magneto out to lunch which made a great time for me to not have to sneak around whispering to everyone about it. However, most people were unaware that Magneto was retiring. Since he hadn't been excited about it, he hadn't been mentioning it to anyone. And unlike myself, it turns out that most people liked Magneto. So I had become the bearer of bad news letting people know that it was his last day. And I certainly didn't want to be spreading the word that he was forced into it, so I tried to play it off like he was excited about it. That was uncomfortable.
So the end of the day had arrived and the boss brought down two wrapped gifts from the company. Magneto took the packages, put them into the box of his personal stuff, and went right back to packing. Shocked, the boss said, "You can open them now," but Magneto replied that he'd rather just open them later. Maybe Magneto thought it would be something that would make him emotional.
So when Magneto left to bring a box down to his car, we hung our signed poster up very prominently on his overhead cabinets. But when he came back he didn't even notice. His head was sadly hanging down looking at the floor, and he just went back to packing up another box. When he came back from his second and final trip to load up his car, he thankfully noticed the poster, so we didn't have to awkwardly point it out to him. But he didn't bother to read the poster. He barely glanced at it before he took it down and rolled it up. Probably again so he wouldn't start crying or something. And I think we were all glad that he didn't see C's comment. After his sweet sentiment that he created for the poster, we were all shocked to read that his personal message was, "Don't worry. You only need a lot of money in retirement if you plan to live a long time." I guess he thought it would come across funny, but it really didn't. Magneto quietly shook the hands of anyone he walked past on his way out, and was gone for good.
But as sad as that day was for everyone to see, Friday was nice and quiet around the office and I was super happy to no longer have anyone talking down to me like I was a 4-year-old idiot and it was my first day on the job.
There have been times where I've said I hate this guy. There have been times where I've wanted to punch him in the face. Hard. There have been times when I've wished that he'd be hit by a bus. Hard. Not killed by a bus, but injured to the point where he'd be put on permanent disability.
However, please don't think I'm such a horrible person yet. My super strong dislike of Magneto is totally justified:
First of all, I work in a very male-dominant environment. There are 143 people in my department. 14 of us are women. There was a day that I was feeling sick and I had been working on Magneto's project. He could see and hear that I wasn't feeling well, so he came over to me and said, "If you need to go home, don't feel bad about it. I know that I never talk to you -- because you're a girl -- but I talk to the guys all the time and I tell them that it's more important to take care of yourself so that you can be feeling your best at work and be able to focus on the job."
So #1, he's got an issue with my gender.
Secondly, every time he gives me work to do, he takes forever to explain every single little mark-up to me. And he'd start off by saying, "All of these changes are self-explanatory, but I'll explain them to you anyway." And his explanations would be like, "Okay, see this here, I added the letter "L" to the end of this word. It was misspelled P-A-N-E, but the word is supposed to be P-A-N-E-L actually. Panel. So I've added this letter "L" to the end of the word to make it correctly say "Panel" and then you'll circle the "L" to show people that you've corrected the spelling mistake." I'm not exaggerating. All that, just for an "L." And he had really nice handwriting too, so it's not as if he just wanted to make sure I could read his comments. He apparently just thought that I wouldn't be able to figure out what he meant.
So #2, he thinks I'm really stupid. Probably cause I'm a girl.
Thirdly, there was a particular incident where another guy had given me mark-ups to draft and that guy is the type who knows what he means in his head, but has trouble putting it down on paper. So he gives me half-done mark-ups. Sometimes it's obvious that information is missing and I can ask him for clarification. But other times it's not obvious. So I'd draft per his mark-ups and move on. Magneto was the independent reviewer on this particular project and noticed during his review that some things were missing. He called me into a meeting, along with the guy who gave me the half-missing work, and Magneto started lecturing me about how I shouldn't be afraid to ask questions. I tried to explain that the reason I didn't ask questions was because I thought everything was fine. It wasn't that I was afraid to ask, it's that I didn't know there was a question to be asked. As if he didn't hear a thing I said, he continued with his lecture about how important it is to ask questions so that we don't have to waste time doing things twice. There was no lecture given to the other guy about making sure his mark-ups were complete.
So #3, he's an asshole.
There was another time when I was working on one of Magneto's projects and I didn't quite understand his mark-up, so I asked him to clarify it. He answered the question, and then went on to lecture me about how I shouldn't hesitate to ask him any questions because it's better to ask, rather than make a wrong guess and have to do things twice. WTF am I getting lectured for now?!? Obviously I'm not afraid to ask questions, because I just asked a fucking question!! WTF is wrong with this guy?!?
So #4, he's a fucking idiot douchbag asshole.
But this past Thursday was his last day! He pretty much got forced into retirement. He's in his mid-60's and has been with the company for 27 years. He's talked before about retiring, but the boss has always been able to talk him into sticking around for a couple more years. But after all the shit that went on with our work being taken to the Chattanooga office, the boss gave Magneto an ultimatum. He basically told Magneto he had two choices. 1) Go to Chattanooga for the entire three months, or 2) Take his retirement. Magneto's got some health issues and, therefore, didn't want to be far from home in case something happened and he ended up in the hospital, or worse. So he said he couldn't go to Tennessee. Not even for a few weeks. Which forced him to take option #2.
He announced his retirement to our small group of 11 on August 30, making September 15 his last day. And as much as I dislike him, and as much as I was counting down the days along with him, I still felt a little bit sad for him. Even though he'd talked about retirement in the past, he clearly was not excited about it anymore. And as if our supervisor was unaware that Magneto didn't actually want to retire, J kept making comments like, "Did you see the stock market dropped again today? I sure wouldn't want to be without a steady paycheck in this economy." Like J thought he could scare Magneto into keeping his job and going to Chattanooga or something? It was pretty awkward.
So I came into work Thursday and J was telling me that I'd be working on Magneto's project and I said, "Oh wow, today is his last day. Yeah, gotta get his project done before he leaves." And J said, "Shit. I forgot." So without a cake, a card, or anything else to acknowledge Magneto's last day, J put me and C on a project to create an 18" x 24" poster that everyone Magneto works with in the company could sign. Since I sit in the same quad as Magneto, we decided it would work best if C made the poster on his computer, and since I've been at the company longer than C and had a better idea of who Magneto's friends and coworkers were, it was my job to go around the building asking people to sign it.
C had come up with a really nice sentiment to go in the center of the poster. Something like "You are one of a kind and will truly be missed. Your knowledge and dedication to the job has been a great help to us all and we will never forget you." So poster in hand, I was off to get people to sign it. J and the boss took Magneto out to lunch which made a great time for me to not have to sneak around whispering to everyone about it. However, most people were unaware that Magneto was retiring. Since he hadn't been excited about it, he hadn't been mentioning it to anyone. And unlike myself, it turns out that most people liked Magneto. So I had become the bearer of bad news letting people know that it was his last day. And I certainly didn't want to be spreading the word that he was forced into it, so I tried to play it off like he was excited about it. That was uncomfortable.
So the end of the day had arrived and the boss brought down two wrapped gifts from the company. Magneto took the packages, put them into the box of his personal stuff, and went right back to packing. Shocked, the boss said, "You can open them now," but Magneto replied that he'd rather just open them later. Maybe Magneto thought it would be something that would make him emotional.
So when Magneto left to bring a box down to his car, we hung our signed poster up very prominently on his overhead cabinets. But when he came back he didn't even notice. His head was sadly hanging down looking at the floor, and he just went back to packing up another box. When he came back from his second and final trip to load up his car, he thankfully noticed the poster, so we didn't have to awkwardly point it out to him. But he didn't bother to read the poster. He barely glanced at it before he took it down and rolled it up. Probably again so he wouldn't start crying or something. And I think we were all glad that he didn't see C's comment. After his sweet sentiment that he created for the poster, we were all shocked to read that his personal message was, "Don't worry. You only need a lot of money in retirement if you plan to live a long time." I guess he thought it would come across funny, but it really didn't. Magneto quietly shook the hands of anyone he walked past on his way out, and was gone for good.
But as sad as that day was for everyone to see, Friday was nice and quiet around the office and I was super happy to no longer have anyone talking down to me like I was a 4-year-old idiot and it was my first day on the job.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Weekend Warrior
Over the long Labor Day weekend, I decided that three days off work would be the perfect time to tackle some sort of project around the house. I am an Interior Design School drop-out, which means that I'm now an Interior Design Hobbyist, so I'm always looking around our 1986 townhouse for areas that I can implement some HGTV design tips. I considered my time frame, budget, and the fact that I had a sick husband at home for whom I felt like I should be available for, and decided that painting our guest room seemed like a doable project.
After a somewhat relaxing Saturday, I woke up Sunday morning ready to start the project. I looked through the paint sample books that I have and decided on some colors. Then I began to clear out the bedroom, which was looking like it was being used as a storage facility. There were boxes of stuff at the foot of the bed, on top of the bed, piles of clothes on the floor, and too many books to fit on the bookshelves. I cleared off the shelves first and then began the task of moving boxes from the foot of the bed into the living room. About halfway through the boxes, I picked one up and noticed the bottom of the box was wet. I looked inside and it was only linens...nothing that would have been leaking.
I pulled up the box next to it and found the same thing...wet on the bottom. That box was full of shoes; again nothing to leak. And box after box began coming up the same way. Once all the boxes had been cleared I discovered that the entire carpet along an entire wall was wet. Under the bed...also wet. WTF? There is a crawl space under our house so it didn't make sense that water could be coming up from under the house. And there were no visible signs of damage on the ceiling, so nothing was dripping into the room. And then I remembered that seemingly innocent little puddle of water that I'd noticed a few weeks earlier under our water heater...
I'm a stereotypical girl in the fact that I know nothing about appliances or home repair. Seeing that puddle under the water heater didn't bother me too much at the time. For as long as I've been with my husband I can remember dripping sounds always coming from the utility room and no one else seemed to notice it or to seem bothered by it. And we hadn't noticed any damage being done by it. I mentioned the puddle to my husband and he kind of shrugged it off too. I knew there was a floor drain in the area and just figured that the water would find it's way down the drain eventually.
But it seems now that the water had actually been finding it's way underneath the peel and stick tiles in the utility room, into the guest bedroom which shares the back wall of the utility room, and into the garage where upon moving more boxes of crap out of the way, I discovered a pretty massive growth of green, furry mold. Great.
So step number one was to go out and buy a new water heater. I suppose step number one should have been to follow my father-in-law's advice and turn off the water and gas line to the water heater, but Jim and I agreed that we didn't want to be without hot water for showers, and another day or two of water damage wouldn't make much more of a difference at this point. God only knows how long this leak had been happening, but considering the amount of wet bedroom carpet and the amount of garage mold that we found, I'd guess this has been going on for quite some time.
So anyway, on to step number one, I was off to Home Depot for a new water heater. I've been seeing lots of commercials for tankless water heaters, and they promote them as being really energy efficient, and the smaller size would make for a cleaner look in the utility room. So that was the plan. Except the guy working in Home Depot's water heater department told me that all their tankless heaters were special order only. He said that I could either order one in the store from the Customer Service desk, or order one online which would have more selection and the same delivery time regardless of ordering it online or from Customer Service. I said I'd check it out online (knowing that my actual plan was to find a competitor who had one in stock), and I was on my way.
I went to Ace Hardware (knowing it was a long-shot due to the tiny size of their store) and as expected, they didn't sell water heaters in-store or online. I did, however, get my guest bedroom paint. Not that painting was my top priority anymore, but as long as I was already there, I figured I could do at least one productive thing. So after making my paint purchase, I was off to Menards.
I don't know if this is true about all Menards
I picked out a laminate that I liked, but didn't purchase it yet since I knew that the more pressing issue was the water heater. Joel walked me over to that department and sought out the employee to help me. She said that before I could make the purchase, she'd have to know what size vent we currently had. I looked at the pipe coming out of the top of the model, pointed to it, and asked, "So I need to measure that?" And she said, "Yeah, and also the vent" (pointing to a pipe coming out of the wall at the bottom). Clearly, I have no clue about any of this. Thinking back to the class I took in Interior Design school about the basics of a home, we were pretty much given an "A" for being able to point to a furnace in a picture. The chick at Menards also mentioned that they didn't provide installation and/or haul-away services. They were simply a home-repair supplier.
I briefly thought on my drive home that perhaps my dad and Jim's dad would know how to install a water heater. But it didn't seem fair to make our dads give up their free time to do all this work, and Jim and I agreed that it was something important enough that we wanted a professional to do. I looked online to find some retailers who would also do installation and haul-away and discovered that apparently it's nearly impossible to find someone who has tankless water heaters in stock and will provide the necessary services as well. Looking at Home Depot's website again, I didn't want to schedule an installation since I had no idea when the water heater order would come in. So I figured it was best to just go back to the store where I could actually talk to someone instead of filling out an online request form for someone to call me.
So I went back to Home Depot, where the guy at Customer Service told me that they did indeed have two tankless water heaters in stock. I told him that the guy in the heater department told me they didn't carry those. The CS guy said, "I don't know why he'd say that. He's been working here for years and we've always stocked them. They sell out fast so we don't always have them in stock, but we do stock them. Strange." Yeah. Quality is quality is quality is....
However, the CS guy told me that if we didn't already have a tankless model, we couldn't be sure that our house was compatible for tankless. So I had to set up an appointment for an analyst to come to our house on Tuesday and see if we met all the requirements. If we did, and if they had our model in stock, they could install it Wednesday. If they didn't have the model in stock, it might be three weeks to get it in. I scheduled the analysis and was on my way back home.
But after some more extensive Internet research, I discovered that on average, most people save about $70 a year due to the energy efficiency of a tankless water heater. Only $70 a year! That means that it would take about 10 years for the cost difference to be made up in energy savings. Who even knows if we'll still be living here in 10 years? And knowing that they'd for sure have the tank models in stock, I called first thing Tuesday morning and turned our analysis appointment into an installation appointment.
So the leakage problem has been fixed, but now there is the aftermath of cleaning up all the moldy, water damaged areas. In the utility room, the peel and stick tile has to be replaced and most likely the subfloor underneath it. In the guest bedroom the carpet, padding, and subfloor were all ruined, as well as some of the baseboards and drywall, and probably the insulation in that wall too. And in the garage, some drywall and insulation will also need to be replaced.
This is turning into a huge nightmare...
After a somewhat relaxing Saturday, I woke up Sunday morning ready to start the project. I looked through the paint sample books that I have and decided on some colors. Then I began to clear out the bedroom, which was looking like it was being used as a storage facility. There were boxes of stuff at the foot of the bed, on top of the bed, piles of clothes on the floor, and too many books to fit on the bookshelves. I cleared off the shelves first and then began the task of moving boxes from the foot of the bed into the living room. About halfway through the boxes, I picked one up and noticed the bottom of the box was wet. I looked inside and it was only linens...nothing that would have been leaking.
I pulled up the box next to it and found the same thing...wet on the bottom. That box was full of shoes; again nothing to leak. And box after box began coming up the same way. Once all the boxes had been cleared I discovered that the entire carpet along an entire wall was wet. Under the bed...also wet. WTF? There is a crawl space under our house so it didn't make sense that water could be coming up from under the house. And there were no visible signs of damage on the ceiling, so nothing was dripping into the room. And then I remembered that seemingly innocent little puddle of water that I'd noticed a few weeks earlier under our water heater...
I'm a stereotypical girl in the fact that I know nothing about appliances or home repair. Seeing that puddle under the water heater didn't bother me too much at the time. For as long as I've been with my husband I can remember dripping sounds always coming from the utility room and no one else seemed to notice it or to seem bothered by it. And we hadn't noticed any damage being done by it. I mentioned the puddle to my husband and he kind of shrugged it off too. I knew there was a floor drain in the area and just figured that the water would find it's way down the drain eventually.
But it seems now that the water had actually been finding it's way underneath the peel and stick tiles in the utility room, into the guest bedroom which shares the back wall of the utility room, and into the garage where upon moving more boxes of crap out of the way, I discovered a pretty massive growth of green, furry mold. Great.
So step number one was to go out and buy a new water heater. I suppose step number one should have been to follow my father-in-law's advice and turn off the water and gas line to the water heater, but Jim and I agreed that we didn't want to be without hot water for showers, and another day or two of water damage wouldn't make much more of a difference at this point. God only knows how long this leak had been happening, but considering the amount of wet bedroom carpet and the amount of garage mold that we found, I'd guess this has been going on for quite some time.
So anyway, on to step number one, I was off to Home Depot for a new water heater. I've been seeing lots of commercials for tankless water heaters, and they promote them as being really energy efficient, and the smaller size would make for a cleaner look in the utility room. So that was the plan. Except the guy working in Home Depot's water heater department told me that all their tankless heaters were special order only. He said that I could either order one in the store from the Customer Service desk, or order one online which would have more selection and the same delivery time regardless of ordering it online or from Customer Service. I said I'd check it out online (knowing that my actual plan was to find a competitor who had one in stock), and I was on my way.
I went to Ace Hardware (knowing it was a long-shot due to the tiny size of their store) and as expected, they didn't sell water heaters in-store or online. I did, however, get my guest bedroom paint. Not that painting was my top priority anymore, but as long as I was already there, I figured I could do at least one productive thing. So after making my paint purchase, I was off to Menards.
I don't know if this is true about all Menards
I picked out a laminate that I liked, but didn't purchase it yet since I knew that the more pressing issue was the water heater. Joel walked me over to that department and sought out the employee to help me. She said that before I could make the purchase, she'd have to know what size vent we currently had. I looked at the pipe coming out of the top of the model, pointed to it, and asked, "So I need to measure that?" And she said, "Yeah, and also the vent" (pointing to a pipe coming out of the wall at the bottom). Clearly, I have no clue about any of this. Thinking back to the class I took in Interior Design school about the basics of a home, we were pretty much given an "A" for being able to point to a furnace in a picture. The chick at Menards also mentioned that they didn't provide installation and/or haul-away services. They were simply a home-repair supplier.
I briefly thought on my drive home that perhaps my dad and Jim's dad would know how to install a water heater. But it didn't seem fair to make our dads give up their free time to do all this work, and Jim and I agreed that it was something important enough that we wanted a professional to do. I looked online to find some retailers who would also do installation and haul-away and discovered that apparently it's nearly impossible to find someone who has tankless water heaters in stock and will provide the necessary services as well. Looking at Home Depot's website again, I didn't want to schedule an installation since I had no idea when the water heater order would come in. So I figured it was best to just go back to the store where I could actually talk to someone instead of filling out an online request form for someone to call me.
So I went back to Home Depot, where the guy at Customer Service told me that they did indeed have two tankless water heaters in stock. I told him that the guy in the heater department told me they didn't carry those. The CS guy said, "I don't know why he'd say that. He's been working here for years and we've always stocked them. They sell out fast so we don't always have them in stock, but we do stock them. Strange." Yeah. Quality is quality is quality is....
However, the CS guy told me that if we didn't already have a tankless model, we couldn't be sure that our house was compatible for tankless. So I had to set up an appointment for an analyst to come to our house on Tuesday and see if we met all the requirements. If we did, and if they had our model in stock, they could install it Wednesday. If they didn't have the model in stock, it might be three weeks to get it in. I scheduled the analysis and was on my way back home.
But after some more extensive Internet research, I discovered that on average, most people save about $70 a year due to the energy efficiency of a tankless water heater. Only $70 a year! That means that it would take about 10 years for the cost difference to be made up in energy savings. Who even knows if we'll still be living here in 10 years? And knowing that they'd for sure have the tank models in stock, I called first thing Tuesday morning and turned our analysis appointment into an installation appointment.
So the leakage problem has been fixed, but now there is the aftermath of cleaning up all the moldy, water damaged areas. In the utility room, the peel and stick tile has to be replaced and most likely the subfloor underneath it. In the guest bedroom the carpet, padding, and subfloor were all ruined, as well as some of the baseboards and drywall, and probably the insulation in that wall too. And in the garage, some drywall and insulation will also need to be replaced.
This is turning into a huge nightmare...
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Quality, is quality, is quality, is quality, is quality...Part 2
Well it's been one hell of a week, stewing with anticipation to find out if I would be one of the chosen few to spend three months working in our Chattanooga office. As I mentioned last time my supervisor, J, looked confused when I asked him when a decision would be made since I hadn't volunteered, but that ultimately the decision was up to my not-so-sensitive boss.
Over the weekend, I tried to not let it bother me too much, but I found it getting in the way of even the simplest things like, how many days worth of food should I get at the grocery store or should I be more diligent about getting my laundry done so that I'd have clean clothes to pack.
Monday arrived and I was certain that we would be given an answer. But there was no mention of anything about it. Then on Tuesday, we got an email from J informing us that the client would need "another day or two" to come to a decision about whether or not they trusted our company to complete the work. So that meant Wednesday or Thursday we'd have an answer, which would leave us only Friday and Saturday to prepare for the trip. I was so worked up about it, so stressed out about it, so upset about it...I felt like I just couldn't take it anymore. I felt like saying "F it" and walking out.
But after a few deep breathes and minimal tears shed, I made it through the rest of the day and just before leaving on Tuesday, asked J if I could have Wednesday off. After my mild breakdown, I felt like I really just needed a day to myself away from all the drama, to not think about it, and to not be hearing all the gossip and rumors. I didn't need to stress myself out even more straining to hear bits and pieces of J's conversations, trying to put things together. I had some comp time built up and our workload had been slow ever since most of our stuff had been taken to Tennessee. So after making sure that my more critical work was already complete, J said, "See you Thursday."
Wednesday I spent the day doing errands, laundry and cleaning up some of my crap around the house so that my husband wouldn't have to look at my mess for three months (certain in my mind that I'd be sent to Chattanooga). It was a great day off and I was able to clear my head a little.
And finally, this morning was indeed the big day. I was the first one into work at 7:00. I immediately checked my email to see if any news had been passed along, either officially from J, or just a gossip email from a coworker. Neither. When one of my friends arrived a few minutes later I sprinted over to her desk and asked if I had missed anything. No news yet. J came in around 7:15 and made his usual first-thing-in-the-morning call to the boss to check in. And that's when I heard him say that "most of the five who are going are in the office by 8:00," so they'd have an 8:30 meeting to inform those people all the specifics of their travel.
Before long, I noticed it was already 8:40. I spun around and saw that J was not at his desk. I frantically sent a message to a coworker asking if he could see J, the boss, and five other people in a meeting room anywhere near his desk. Yes, my buddy confirmed that a meeting was taking place. And I was NOT in that meeting!!!!
A huge smile, a huge sigh of relief, a bit of shock that I was actually not chosen! "Who is the drafter in the meeting?" I asked my buddy. It was D...the guy who's wife is seven months pregnant, but who might have been responsible for the initiating error. I knew that he had guiltily volunteered to go for two weeks. So I thought maybe the client had decided to let us take the two or three weeks necessary to finish the project we were already in the middle of, but maybe that was all we would be authorized to do.
But when J came back about an hour later he asked me into a conference room. He said the decision they'd made was to send D for three weeks, then J was hoping I could go for two weeks, at which point another drafter would take over for me for two weeks, etc. He said they may need me to go back and forth more than once since I was the most qualified, but that it shouldn't be more than two or three weeks at any time.
He made it seem like a decent enough compromise, although after initially being told that it would be a three month assignment, I suppose anything less than three months would seem like a great deal at that point. And it really sucks that I'm getting punished for something that I had no part in And although two weeks doesn't seem too horrible right now, I'm sure I'll feel much differently about it that first night that I'm alone in a hotel.
But I'm trying to look on the bright side of a lousy situation...at least I'll have Waffle House to drown my sorrows in syrupy goodness for a couple weeks.
Over the weekend, I tried to not let it bother me too much, but I found it getting in the way of even the simplest things like, how many days worth of food should I get at the grocery store or should I be more diligent about getting my laundry done so that I'd have clean clothes to pack.
Monday arrived and I was certain that we would be given an answer. But there was no mention of anything about it. Then on Tuesday, we got an email from J informing us that the client would need "another day or two" to come to a decision about whether or not they trusted our company to complete the work. So that meant Wednesday or Thursday we'd have an answer, which would leave us only Friday and Saturday to prepare for the trip. I was so worked up about it, so stressed out about it, so upset about it...I felt like I just couldn't take it anymore. I felt like saying "F it" and walking out.
But after a few deep breathes and minimal tears shed, I made it through the rest of the day and just before leaving on Tuesday, asked J if I could have Wednesday off. After my mild breakdown, I felt like I really just needed a day to myself away from all the drama, to not think about it, and to not be hearing all the gossip and rumors. I didn't need to stress myself out even more straining to hear bits and pieces of J's conversations, trying to put things together. I had some comp time built up and our workload had been slow ever since most of our stuff had been taken to Tennessee. So after making sure that my more critical work was already complete, J said, "See you Thursday."
Wednesday I spent the day doing errands, laundry and cleaning up some of my crap around the house so that my husband wouldn't have to look at my mess for three months (certain in my mind that I'd be sent to Chattanooga). It was a great day off and I was able to clear my head a little.
And finally, this morning was indeed the big day. I was the first one into work at 7:00. I immediately checked my email to see if any news had been passed along, either officially from J, or just a gossip email from a coworker. Neither. When one of my friends arrived a few minutes later I sprinted over to her desk and asked if I had missed anything. No news yet. J came in around 7:15 and made his usual first-thing-in-the-morning call to the boss to check in. And that's when I heard him say that "most of the five who are going are in the office by 8:00," so they'd have an 8:30 meeting to inform those people all the specifics of their travel.
Before long, I noticed it was already 8:40. I spun around and saw that J was not at his desk. I frantically sent a message to a coworker asking if he could see J, the boss, and five other people in a meeting room anywhere near his desk. Yes, my buddy confirmed that a meeting was taking place. And I was NOT in that meeting!!!!
A huge smile, a huge sigh of relief, a bit of shock that I was actually not chosen! "Who is the drafter in the meeting?" I asked my buddy. It was D...the guy who's wife is seven months pregnant, but who might have been responsible for the initiating error. I knew that he had guiltily volunteered to go for two weeks. So I thought maybe the client had decided to let us take the two or three weeks necessary to finish the project we were already in the middle of, but maybe that was all we would be authorized to do.
But when J came back about an hour later he asked me into a conference room. He said the decision they'd made was to send D for three weeks, then J was hoping I could go for two weeks, at which point another drafter would take over for me for two weeks, etc. He said they may need me to go back and forth more than once since I was the most qualified, but that it shouldn't be more than two or three weeks at any time.
He made it seem like a decent enough compromise, although after initially being told that it would be a three month assignment, I suppose anything less than three months would seem like a great deal at that point. And it really sucks that I'm getting punished for something that I had no part in And although two weeks doesn't seem too horrible right now, I'm sure I'll feel much differently about it that first night that I'm alone in a hotel.
But I'm trying to look on the bright side of a lousy situation...at least I'll have Waffle House to drown my sorrows in syrupy goodness for a couple weeks.
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