What dreadful hot weather we have! It keeps me in a continual state of inelegance.
~ Jane Austen
There are seven words that put fear and, yes, loathing into the heart of any Floridian. Especially this Florida chica.
You may ask yourself -- what are those words?
"Wow -- look how close that hurricane is!"
"Jeb Bush is running for governor again."
"The Gators aren't playing football anymore. Seriously."
Not even close.
Try "My air conditioning is on the fritz."
Now thems some scary words.
And unfortunatly, here at Chez jane, they're applicable. From what I can tell.
I'm no engineering expert by any means -- I've shared the shortcomings of the logical left side of my brain before. But when something as critical to the state of my being as air conditioning isn't working properly -- that I immediately recognize.
Now you may also be asking yourself -- what's the big deal about the air not working.
There are two things in this world that send me into Bitch Mode faster than Posh and Becks turning on their surly charm at the first glint of a flashbulb. (Sidebar: Becks. So hot. Meeeow.)
And watch out world if the two are some how intertwined. That's the recipe for a cataclysmic disaster of Irwin Allen proportions.
I mentioned this sad state of affairs to a buddy of mine -- his immediate comment was "All it would take would be 30 seconds of that and I'd be checking into a hotel. I don't do hot."
Truer words have never been spoken.
You'd think that as a native Floridian, I'd be used to this sort of thing. Honey, let me tell you -- one never gets used to this. I can remember our air going out mid-summer when I was a wee lass and it taking forever to get fixed. My dad used to go sit in his car in the driveway with the motor on, air blasting, and read the morning paper/read the evening paper/have a beer. I think he would have moved into the car if he could have -- although that was also the summer, if I remember correctly, of outrageous gas prices. And the Watergate hearings -- which I watched like visual crack.
But I digress.
I'm waiting until the mister comes home Friday to really deal with this. It's not reached awful proportions. Yet. But the air flow from the vents isn't really what you'd call cool enough. But, thankfully, here in the office, there's a window air unit. Which I deployed immediately at the first sign of malfunction. It's blowing on medium blast right now (ie: somewhere between Minnesota winter and Arctic Circle.) Not bad. For right now.
Although I've got the Hilton on speed dial. Just in case.