Minor Crises, Averted

We're about a week into the kitchen remodel, and we've had two minor SNAFUs thus far. I'm hoping we run into a third minor snag, and then finish without any further problems. No, seriously. Stop laughing. DON'T KILL MY HOPE.

SNAFU Numbah One: THE FLOOR

We had leftover Armstrong laminate flooring, and decided to use it in the kitchen instead of spending tons on tile. We needed another six boxes to finish the job. Charlie, who is the King of Research and Price Comparisons, called a bunch of local flooring places (and the big box stores) to see who had the best deal. A few days later, our order was in and Charlie picked it up on his lunch hour. 

The trouble started when he got the flooring home. We pulled it out of the box to make sure the pattern and color matched (it did), only to discover that Armstrong apparently changed their clicky-locky-floating-floor-hook-together mechanism, so the new floorboards wouldn't connect with the old. This, my friends, was eff-bomb worthy. The flooring place was closed, so Charlie put it on his list for Monday.

Monday morning rolled around, and Charlie decided to skip Mr. Local and go straight to Armstrong. He called them up, explained the situation, and they told him to go ahead and buy six more boxes of the new style floor. Before he could say "Uhh...WTF?!" the Armstrong guy explained that if we'll fax in our invoice, they'll send us a check for the purchase price of the six new boxes. AND we can keep the old stuff. Proof yet again that LIFE IS EASIER WHEN YOU HAVE A PENIS. Because you know, if I had called, they'd have told me to take a flying leap.

SNAFU Numbah Two: MOVING THE DOOR

Part of our remodeling plan includes moving the door that leads to our utility room/pantry/laundry room. At present, it's squished into a corner. It's not in a load-bearing wall, so Charlie had planned to do this part of the job himself. It involves some demo, some basic framing, and then hanging a piece or two of plasterboard. No bigs, right?

Well, sure, except that there are ELEVENTY BILLION ELECTRICAL WIRES running through this particular wall. They spread out from the electrical panel like kudzu vines, and I have no idea where most of them go. Neither does Charlie. This means that we can't move the door until the electrical work for the whole kitchen is done, because we don't want to pay the guy for multiple trips (one to wire the kitchen, one to clean up the crazy kudzu nightmare). Annnnnnd, you guessed it, the electrician can't do his stuff until the whole kitchen's gutted. Blah!

So now we're working on gutting the kitchen. The upper cabinets are down, the stove is sitting in the dining room (classy!), and the lower cabinets may be gone tonight. 

Wish me luck, kids.