It's taken me a solid 10 years of adulting to get over my fear of touching the thermostat...and still almost every time I do, my father appears in a thought bubble over my head and shakes his finger at me.
"Don't TOUCH the thermostat."
Which may be why I didn't completely take notice that the numbers on the thermostat were quickly rising until they had hit the high 80's. It also might have been the moment that I realized that I was sweating sitting at the kitchen table. I was cocktailing...I really don't know.
I couldn't do anything about the rising numbers, so I solved the problem with a 3rd dark and stormy and half an ambien. If it was going to be hot, there was no real need for me to be conscious for it. And generally, these problems correct themselves overnight.
But not, of course, this time.
I awoke with a vague hangover and a house that was still resting at 85 degrees. I had not planned for hot yoga in my living room this morning, but apparently it planned for me.
I took a cold shower, put my hair in a bun and started my day. Proving that with careful consideration, I can ignore just about anything.
However, when I looked at it again, the thermostat was reading 93 degrees. Or "just too fucking hot if you're indoors" on a gage. I retreated to the cool, breezy outdoors, which at only 85 degrees felt almost devine. I took myself on a date for ice cream.
I sat in front of my laptop and I tried. I mean, I TRIED to pay attention to my work. I made an effort to read emails and respond. But the only response I could think of was "Hi, I'd really like to read all the words you took the time to type...but it's stifling hot in my house at the present time and I just can focus on all your stupid words." It was at this point that I realized I needed to stop working.
Impressed by how comfortable to outdoors felt, I pulled my yoga mat and a pillow out on the deck and took a few moments to cry on the phone, mostly to my mother and sister, but to a few other people I thought would be responsive. I started texted my landlord tiny skeletons and wildly making claims that I was going to melt or boil, but either way, I was preparing to expire. I decided it was too hot to eat and settled on a rum drink instead. or two.
Finally, after my second phone call to my mother to let her know that I continued to be hot...I became concerned for my nights sleep. The fan I purchased earlier in the day was making no difference...and I realized I needed to go ninja in order to survive this heatwave.
Which is how I found myself at home depot, with a room AC in hand a short time later. A well spent $150.
The AC is presently resting in my bedroom window, where I have barricaded myself. The rest of the house is covered in lava and going out there requires quick movement. I have the necessities in the room with me. The necessities are as follows: 2 water bottles, 2 laptops, 2 phones, 1 bottle of rum, 1 bottle of Ting (so I can make Mass Appeal jealous), pita chips, peanut butter and ambien. Check. check. check.
Tomorrow, my landlord has promised someone is coming to look at the AC and figure out how to fix it. Hopefully. I don't have much hope. I'm predicting my barricade to remain enforced...
Presently, I'm laying here in my bed, while the AC and the fan hum along. I almost need a light blanket over my arms. This must be what victory feels like.
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