Be careful of what you ask

Or be careful of what you look for. After a day of discovering the many flaws with my bathroom ceiling I decided to start the day with a simple wiring job. As previously mentioned I added a new GFI outlet to the bathroom. Previously we only had one outlet, next to the washing machine and nothing next to the sink. This led to many extension cords and much grimacing. This would be a simple job, take an hour and I could gather those feel good emotions you get from successfully doing something yourself.

After cutting out a hole from the wall (tracing around the plastic outlet box), I took some measurements and set out for the basement where I would drill into the bottom plate of the wall so I could fish the new wire from the bathroom to the basement where I would tie it into the circuit that had the other GFI on it (they would be wired in parallel). This house defies the normal rules of a locally flat space-time so I new I might be off when drilling my hole. I started small and figured that we planned on replacing the bathroom floor eventually. I started drilling, but hit something and I couldn't push past it. I figured it was a nail and moved slightly to one side and tried again. I thought maybe I was in an awkward position and wasn't pushing hard enough...I melted the tip of my bit!

Odd, no? I was starting to wonder if it was going to be one of those days. I went upstairs and figured I could drill a pilot hole down into the basement. Still no luck, there was something very hard between the linoleum and the basement. Maybe some old tile? Tile seemed a bit extravagent for the penny choking misers who'd inflicted their thrifty ways on this poor building for so many years. But as this was a fairly sheltered corner of the bathroom seldom seen...and since we planned on replacing the flooring eventually....I took up a small corner with my utility knife. More flooring. Not surprising. Another layer. Sure, ok. Cheap wood panel board...okay...then....and I'm not kidding...CONCRETE. A couple of inches of CONCRETE. I had to use a cold chisel and my small sledge hammer to remove it. It filled 2/3 of a five gallon bucket (thanks Sean!). As if that weren't weird enough, there are a half dozen different layers/heights under the concrete. I have no idea what this is telling me (sell the house Kevin....sell the house...) as I'm still restraining myself from tearing up the entire floor. But here are some pictures to befuddle you with.

Although now that I look at them they seem like tiny stairs for house gnomes...