Thursday, June 25, 2009

Trapped On The Set Of A Time To Kill

Welcome to Day 2 of "Sarah Goes Back to the Dark Ages Before There Was A/C!" Yesterday started out innocently enough. I got up and ate my customary oatmeal, worked out (yes, I'm still doing that), and then took a shower and headed to my dentist appointment. I probably should have taken the dentist appointment as an omen of bad things to come. It took my dentist (whom I absolutely love) 3 separate attempts to get my tooth numb enough to pull of the temporary crown and glue in the permanent one. Good times. 2 hours later, I headed for home, my drooping lip dragging behind the car. As I walked into the house from the garage, I thought, Wow, it doesn't feel much cooler in there than in the garage...what's up with that? A quick check of the thermostat revealed that it was 83 degrees in the living room, and it was even hotter in the back of the house.

Fast forward to last night. I went to church for drama practice. I threatened to extend practice several hours so that I could remain in the lovely air conditioned building. Unfortunately, no one went for my suggestion. As I was reluctantly dragging myself out to the car, I ran into a friend whom I told about my a/c woes. This lovely person offered us the use of 2 wonderful, glorious, beautiful fans and even offered to meet me somewhere halfway between her house and mine. May I take this moment to say that these 2 fans are quite possibly the most innovative inventions ever conceived by man? They saved us last night. After a few miserable hours together in the living room (heat does little to improve my mood or geniality), Steve and I headed back to our sweat lodge, I mean, bedroom to pretend to sleep for a few hours. Mostly I watched TV until the wee hours, and poor Steve cuddled with his cool, wet cloth. You just can't buy memories like that.

The a/c repair guy came bright and early this morning. (Was it my heat-addled brain or was he the kindest man and did he not have a glow about his angelic face?) He informed me that our compressor had gone to that great air conditioning in the sky and that he would have to order us a new one. I wanted to cry. Not because of the money. Not because the air conditioner is only 3 years old. I wanted to cry because he couldn't fix it today.

After he left and I called to break the news to Steve (who was sleep deprived and less that cheery), I headed back to my bedroom and laid on the bed between the two fans to try to get a little sleep. I did manage a couple hours before the sun started doing her worst. Now, I'm holed up in the cavelike house with all the blinds and window closed, strategically poised between the really exquisite fans. Did I mention that I love the fans?

The good news is that the a/c people called, and the compressor will be here tomorrow. So only one more night of sweaty misery. Of course, the kitties don't have a great grasp of time, and so they suffer on in the heat, wearing their fur coats and looking at me reproachfully from time to time. At least, my dad is still in Spartanburg, and I can go meet up with him later in some well air-conditioned place. I"m thinking some ice cream may be in order.

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