Oh give me a home where the chilled air does blow,
And the cats do not pant on the floor,
Where seldom is heard an obscene curse word,
As the heat wafts in the front door...I am beginning to think I am not meant to have a functional air conditioner.
After finally convincing P. of the necessity of having air conditioning; ascertaining that there is only one exterior wall where AC can be installed; ordering the unit; working out a schedule for repayment from P. and C.; scheduling an appointment for installation; rescheduling the appointment when the unit wasn't delivered in time for the first one; debating with P. about the aesthetic placement of the unit; finally reaching agreement on placement; rearranging the furniture to accommodate said placement; and asking Drew if he'd be willing to camp out at my place on installation day since I would be out of state, you would think that I would have a nicely cooled apartment right now. We've earned it, right?
Apparently no. Apparently I've offended the God of Cooling or the Goddess of All Things Chilled.
A story that will be funny someday—ah hell, it's probably funny to anyone not involved now—behind the cut. For the sake of clarity, all times listed are Pacific.
( Read more... )And who knows? Drew may eventually be willing to sleep with me again. Someday. If I'm lucky and the lemur doesn't bite him when they shove it into the hole in the wall and try to make it cool the house.