The Backstory
As I may have mentioned, French apartments come mostly without light fixtures. Nick’s actually had three: two in the bathroom and one in the WC, plus three more hideous dangling bare bulbs where others might go. Naturally, we picked up some during our epic IKEA trip (I love any excuse to linger in the lighting section). And they were among the first of the things we unpacked to assemble.
And then the ugliness started.
Apparently, two of the fixtures required hooks. And two of the ceiling spaces where the fixtures would go already had hooks. Naturally, those two spaces were not the ones for which we intended those two fixtures, so we needed one new hook, and to get rid of another that was firmly embedded into the plaster.
And speaking of the plaster…
We bought a hook for the really cool kitchen fixture, and then learned some very unfortunate things about the ceiling composition. Specifically, it begins with plaster that flakes off in massive chunks under any stress, and it ends with something too solid for our drill. So we had plaster everywhere, and no way to drill a hole that was even deep enough, much less one that would grip the hook.
At the next spot, we couldn’t get around the unnecessary hook, and at the third the wires were too short to thread into the fixture. As a bonus, the tired old wires made it impossible to reattach one of the aforementioned hideous dangling bulbs, so our efforts actually resulted in a darker apartment.
Nick did not take this well.
And Now
One of the bathroom fixtures burned out today. After two trips to the hardware store, he discovered that fraying on the old wires had caused them to cross, and so the light kept blowing its fuse.
He did not take that well, either.
On the plus side, the hardware store confirmed that wire extensions are a real thing (I had theorized them at some point during the frustration). As a result, Nick actually broke even on lighting, because while the bathroom fixture is dead for the time being, he was able to hang the one that he only agreed to get because I like it.
He did not consider that a fair trade.
The Question
Obviously, some of these issues are the direct result of the condition of the building. But other people live there, and they need light, too. In fact, there are old buildings all over the city, and it is hard to imagine that all of them have useless wires dangling from the lightless ceilings.
Has living 25+ years in the USA made us soft? Have we been taking our cushy equipped kitchens and installed lights for granted, and has it made us incapable of fending for ourselves? Is this something we should really learn to do, or something that should simply not be necessary?
In other words, would it be okay to call an electrician? Or would it be a character flaw?