(no subject)
So I was cheerful last week about saving up enough money to buy my new computer rig, yeah? It shouldn't surprise me at all that I'd regret the decision before the parts even arrived.
Saturday I stayed up especially late to cheer Meredith on during her TKD fitness test, and I figured I'd be staying up no later than noon or so. We got back, and Meredith went to take a shower; she came out a minute later to ask me to have a look at the water heater, as no water was heating up.
It was brutally windy on Saturday, so it wouldn't have surprised me if the pilot light had gone out. Downstairs, lighter in one hand and flashlight in the other, I noticed that the kids' playroom carpet looked funny, discolored. Light on one side of the room, dark on the other. I figured it was a trick of the light, and anyway I was tired and bound to start seeing things.
I opened the door to the furnace and could hear this ominous drip, drip coming from within. The concrete floor around the water heater was wet, but the source of the leak was not obvious. As I crossed the threshold into the furnace room, a shock of cold water soaked through my socks and I uttered the inevitable "What the fuck."
After scrambling to shut the water off to the house, I assessed the damage. Either the intake or outflow pipes to the heater had sprung a leak, and the pressure release valve on the side of the tank was soaking wet too. Water puddled on the floor to the little room and drained into the drain in the floor, but there was just too much.
Most of water puddled under the wall and into the adjoining playroom. The walls weren't wet, but the carpet was sodden and squishy. The previous owners of the house had finished the basement, and converted this large room into a theater. It's a long, rectangular sort of room with speakers built into the walls and a heavy velvet curtain over the one window at the end. Of course, we had no purpose just now for a theater, so we decided it'd be the kids' playroom. Since it's so big, though, a lot of carpet was affected.
We moved everything off the wet part of the carpet (including the treadmill - hopefully that thing still works), shut off the water and gas to the water heater, and started shopping for water heaters. I found that if you got a tankless water heater, you could get a tax credit from Uncle Sam. It's a provision of the stimulus bill, yeah? But buying and installing one of those things is expensive! Maybe it'd be worth it in the end, but we don't have the startup capital for a venture like that. Besides, that's a project one should plan for and budget for. This? This is what you'd call an emergency.
If we're very lucky, replacing the thing should cost us about a thousand dollars, including installation of the new tank and disposal of the old one. If we're less lucky and the city requires the pressure release valve, it'll be closer to $1,300. We might be able to offset some of this cost if I can figure out a way to make a claim to our homeowner's insurance, but I've never had to do that, so I don't quite know the best angle to play with them.
I'm irritated that this is happening at all, of course. I'm more irritated that I sunk about $1,200 into computer parts just a few days before it happened. I'd've put that money right into the water heater if it had broken before I pulled the trigger for the computer. I should be grateful that we can pay for this at all, that I'm employed and paid well enough that we can save money for these kind of emergencies, that the damage wasn't worse than it is.
I'm trying very hard to remember to be grateful, but it's much easier to be angry. Anger may be easy, but in the end, it is exhausting (since I can't really direct it at anyone). Gratitude is a balm to the mind.
tl;dr - Shit happens. Don't get mad about it. Fix it if you can. Be grateful that you can. Be happy that it wasn't worse.
Saturday I stayed up especially late to cheer Meredith on during her TKD fitness test, and I figured I'd be staying up no later than noon or so. We got back, and Meredith went to take a shower; she came out a minute later to ask me to have a look at the water heater, as no water was heating up.
It was brutally windy on Saturday, so it wouldn't have surprised me if the pilot light had gone out. Downstairs, lighter in one hand and flashlight in the other, I noticed that the kids' playroom carpet looked funny, discolored. Light on one side of the room, dark on the other. I figured it was a trick of the light, and anyway I was tired and bound to start seeing things.
I opened the door to the furnace and could hear this ominous drip, drip coming from within. The concrete floor around the water heater was wet, but the source of the leak was not obvious. As I crossed the threshold into the furnace room, a shock of cold water soaked through my socks and I uttered the inevitable "What the fuck."
After scrambling to shut the water off to the house, I assessed the damage. Either the intake or outflow pipes to the heater had sprung a leak, and the pressure release valve on the side of the tank was soaking wet too. Water puddled on the floor to the little room and drained into the drain in the floor, but there was just too much.
Most of water puddled under the wall and into the adjoining playroom. The walls weren't wet, but the carpet was sodden and squishy. The previous owners of the house had finished the basement, and converted this large room into a theater. It's a long, rectangular sort of room with speakers built into the walls and a heavy velvet curtain over the one window at the end. Of course, we had no purpose just now for a theater, so we decided it'd be the kids' playroom. Since it's so big, though, a lot of carpet was affected.
We moved everything off the wet part of the carpet (including the treadmill - hopefully that thing still works), shut off the water and gas to the water heater, and started shopping for water heaters. I found that if you got a tankless water heater, you could get a tax credit from Uncle Sam. It's a provision of the stimulus bill, yeah? But buying and installing one of those things is expensive! Maybe it'd be worth it in the end, but we don't have the startup capital for a venture like that. Besides, that's a project one should plan for and budget for. This? This is what you'd call an emergency.
If we're very lucky, replacing the thing should cost us about a thousand dollars, including installation of the new tank and disposal of the old one. If we're less lucky and the city requires the pressure release valve, it'll be closer to $1,300. We might be able to offset some of this cost if I can figure out a way to make a claim to our homeowner's insurance, but I've never had to do that, so I don't quite know the best angle to play with them.
I'm irritated that this is happening at all, of course. I'm more irritated that I sunk about $1,200 into computer parts just a few days before it happened. I'd've put that money right into the water heater if it had broken before I pulled the trigger for the computer. I should be grateful that we can pay for this at all, that I'm employed and paid well enough that we can save money for these kind of emergencies, that the damage wasn't worse than it is.
I'm trying very hard to remember to be grateful, but it's much easier to be angry. Anger may be easy, but in the end, it is exhausting (since I can't really direct it at anyone). Gratitude is a balm to the mind.
tl;dr - Shit happens. Don't get mad about it. Fix it if you can. Be grateful that you can. Be happy that it wasn't worse.