I’ve had a leak in my kitchen for about a year and a half now. Which is why I moved out of my own apartment and in my fiancée’s. That and the fact that her place is way nicer. And that it just kind of happened: I gradually invaded her space to the point that I have my own cupboard now. I only got it once we were engaged, though: up till then, all I had was a drawer. I suspect she was somewhat aware of my trickery.
In any case, I have spent the last year and a half trying to get that kitchen leak fixed. It took a few months for the building supervisor to fully understand the problem: she first thought it was a chimney problem… because the contractor who supposed to fix them had stopped his work halfway through, leaving many chimney pipes uncovered. Who would have thought that would be an issue, I ask of you?
Eventually, with the help of an architect neighbour, we found out that there were actually two different types of leaks: the chimney situation, which was indeed starting to show (surprise, surprise…), plus another problem with a gutter on the roof that was clogged, thus redirecting water onto… my kitchen wall, among others. The usual fun stuff.
Then came the time to choose a supplier to finally fix both problems: we needed an owners meeting for that — that took another few months. Then finalizing the deal with the chosen supplier (found by my neighbour, not the building supervisor who’s supposed to do that kind of thing), sorting the down payment… that lead us to yesterday, when the works finally started. Miracles do happen.
I agreed to be present when the workers arrived — in the early morning too (9am), if only to make sure that they were real. They were, they got out all their equipment and started carrying it up to the roof. I followed them: not that I didn’t trust them, I just figured there would be a nice view up there.