Of Conduits and Condo Boards

Met the electrician last evening to see the work he's done so far. He found the sconce boxes, fixed the Damocles Shower of Death, and got me my extras. Beyond fabulous.

But he had to stop, as the conduit he was going to use in the basement to run my other two circuits is already full of other people's wires, installed, presumably, when they upgraded their own electrical.

The only option is to run an external conduit, which involves drilling through the exterior brick wall. It's been done in other places - you can see conduit running up the exterior courtyard wall. Mine would be run along the inside well of the back stairs, next to another conduit. No biggie.

As a courtesy, I sent a message to the management company so that they could say yes, of course, no problem, thank you good occupant for checking in. Godpseed, and enjoy your 70 whole amps of power.

I was not expecting:
"...the board has some concerns with you project. Please hold off until they have had time to review."

I sent a reply saying basically that I understood, but please impress upon them that if I can't do this (which I could do if people above me, who I believe are on the board, hadn't already taken up conduit space to upgrade their own electrical), then I have no alternative, and having only 30 amps is not an option. I also pointed out that I'm not the first person to do this, and hey, I can't get anything else done until the electrical is finished.

Maybe I was frazzled because I'd had to spend close to $600 to have my horribly leaking bathtub faucets replaced and the valve in my toilet rebuilt (vintage is great unless it's plumbing), and was told that I should consider having the entire flusher and toilet replaced sometime in the future.

Explain to me how this can be a full third of what my electrician is charging to rewire my entire house, including drilling holes through masonry to run me new conduit. And while you're at it, why my dentist wants almost four times as much as the electrician for crowns on my implants. I'm baffled. I have no point of reference any more. I'm recalling the year that Ev and I renovated our place in Dorchester: we got to the point where everything was in the thousands, and less than five hundred dollars was so rare it seemed free.

I just keep saying that it will all be OK once I'm living there, not half out of boxes, and once the idiots from Craigslist actually show up as they say they will to look at the furniture I'm selling. (Larger, expensive stuff? I had a pocket full of cash in one night. Cheap, small stuff? The drama of scheduling is unbelievable. The inability of people to just call and say they won't be by is amazing.) I'm ready to haul it all to the charity shop.