It's hot as balls here.
Sweaty like that, too.
It's like the second heat wave of the summer, or something like that. I don't know. All I know is that I am sweating and hot and can't concentrate on anything except how sweaty and hot I am.
Evidently that's all my husband can think about too, because we are wandering around the house, sweating, looking at each other, and silently wondering when this madness will end. We are at the mercy of the Air Conditioning Rock Stars, who only work from Monday to Friday.
We are not handy people, in the least. My husband needs supervision changing a light bulb, and as for me, well, I can't fix anything. Every picture we have hanging in our house has at least two holes behind it. The insides of the machines that run our lives look to me like they could use a good straightening and organizing.
We are the people who HVAC people hate. We are the ones who will get a Facebook tip that you work in AC and will call you on a Friday night at 9:30 and ask you to come to our house to check it out.
Neither my husband nor I grew up with AC. We both lived in the country, and AC was not a thing. I don't remember anyone having it. Maybe a window unit. Definitely a fan in the window at night. We lived in hot houses, and went outside when it got unbearable. But air conditioning? That's for movie theaters and funeral parlors.
And yet, we survived.
I'm not sure the exact moment that we both came to be dependent on artificially cooled air. Maybe when we went to college. Maybe when we lived in our first apartments, and it was a novelty and we cranked it all the time.
But now, we are AC wimps. The more I think about how we don't have air conditioning in our house right now, the more lathered up I get. My husband, too. I am thoroughly grossed out and disappointed in the both of us. All we can do is wait for someone to rescue us from the hotbox that our house has become.
The funny thing is, our kids don't seem to mind. They don't complain about the heat - they don't even seem to notice the absence of AC. Just like us when we were kids.
My husband and I should take a hint and learn from our children: be patient, and stop acting like no AC means the end of the world.
Either that, or maybe we'll go to the movies. Or find a nice, comfortable funeral parlor.
|Not sure what the official balls-hot|
temperature is, but it'll get there.