Have y’all seen the forecast? It’s like Beginner’s Hades up in here. For the Wednesday WTF readers who are not from Texas, let me explain: “spring” in Texas is more like a toddler before naptime — blowing hot and cold, irrational, and really inconvenient.
And it just so happens that this week will reach the 90s at some point, and Sunday at WTF headquarters, there was this sudden whine from the air conditioner, and then nothing. The doohickey that does the spinning wasn’t spinning, and the whole thing was rather warm, and it was whining like an overstimulated kindergartener in a Chuck E. Cheese at midnight.
Now, for all of you who don’t live in Texas, you’re about to hear a chorus of drawling angels from the sunbaked choir loft of the Lone Star state tell me that it’s not that hot. That I should be grateful that the one thing (besides beer and margaritas) that makes summer in Texas tolerable died in May, and not in July when even overnight it’s still 90 degrees plus.
Y’all just shush. It’s my super hot party, and I’m gonna cry if I want to and those tears will probably evaporate immediately.
Basically, Sunday night was mostly spent thinking, “Oh, this is OK. This is fine. It’s not that bad.”
Even Monday morning, briefly, it wasn’t that bad. The ceiling fans were fanning, the air was still a little coolish, and things seemed good.
But then my insides launched a rebellion in the form of some kind of stomach bug, AND my allergies attacked. Have you ever sneezed five times in a row while having uh, intestinal discomforts? It’s like not checking your parachute before leaping from an airplane, only more exhilarating.
So by Monday noon, my emotions were going in a cycle I can only explain through animated gifs.
I don’t even know how people lived without air conditioning. I don’t know if I want to know. OK, maybe I do. I have questions. So many questions.
Did they just sit around naked from May to September, laying on the floor, arms and legs akimbo, drinking iced water and not dying?
And how did everyone not stink? I mean, it was barely 48 hours or so and if it wasn’t for the blessed work of Mrs. Meyers Clean Day products and Jesus, this place would smell as pungently as a sauna cleaner’s whitey tighties after an eight-hour shift.
So Tuesday morning a repairman came, thanks to our handy-dandy home warranty. And his name was Kevin and he’s my best friend now and I’m going to adopt him so he always is around to fix my AC.
I mean, he fixed it. He patiently explained the technical reason why my life was so hot and not in a good way, and I nodded and then gratefully paid the man, crossing my fingers whatever voodoo he performed lasted the entire summer and fall.
But something good did come out of this experience. I found so many gifs about hot weather.
So many. And hopefully, I won’t have to find out what it feels like to have no AC in July when even overnight it’s stupid hot.
A girl can hope, right?
