Monday, May 17, 2010

Who needs central air?

I mean, opening all of the windows in the house is great? Right?

When it's above 90 outside, the answer would be WRONG.

My ac is out...again...for the sixth time in two years.



Did you know it was possible to have a lemon of an air conditioning unit?  I've heard of buying cars that were lemons.  But never air conditioners.  That is, until mine.



By the way, the unit is only three years old.  The breakdowns started happening  just after the one year warranty expired.

Did you ever notice how things like this only happen on the weekends?  It was Saturday when we noticed the trouble.  Saturday's high was in the mid-90's.  And, J and I are cheap (okay, well J is cheap, and marrying him made me cheap by proxy).  So of course, we were not going to pay someone "emergency" rates to get them out here on a weekend.

So it's Monday afternoon, still no ac.  Thankfully, the repairman (a.k.a. my new best friend) will be here shortly.

Some highlights regarding the lack of cool air:
  • My hair.  It's (not) amazing.  It is completely and utterly muggy in my bathroom.  I already have one appliance that blows hot air, so I am certainly not going to willingly turn on another.  The result is frizz.  Lots of it.  
  • Sleeping.  I am a hot sleeper on a normal day.  In the dead of winter, my fan is on.  "But icicles are forming on the ceiling!" says J.  "It feels like hell in here without the fan," says me.  Must. Have. Fan.  Sleeping with no ac is the opposite of fun for me.
  • The sounds of nature...and my neighbors.  Since there is no ac, all windows must be open at all times.  SO, all night I get to listen to not only the frogs, the crickets, and the (raging) thunderstorms, but also to the crazy lady neighbor on her back porch at 3:30 am (I don't know why, so don't ask), and then her dog barking (and barking, and barking, and barking barking barking) at 4:30 am.
  • The sofa bed.  We decided to give it a whirl Saturday night, since it was literally 12 degrees cooler downstairs than it was upstairs.  That rod running through the center of my back?  It did not equal good lumbar support.  And the overly-excited dog who wouldn't calm down?   I know she was just happy to have company on her level, but mama needed some sleep.  We hoofed it upstairs before midnight and suffered through the heat.
In conclusion?  Southern living was made for central air.

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