Feeling the heat


O enemy mine: The thermostat at our place

This weekend had people and their pets panting. This weekend, ice-cream makers all over the north state were clapping their hands in glee. This weekend it was so hot people were willing to make friends with that weird guy who smells like fungus and thinks he can play the digeridoo because his apartment complex has a pool. Yes, it was that hot.

Of course, this was also the weekend our air-conditioning unit was broken. Saturday wasn’t too bad as we were out and about most of the day, and during the afternoon a kind friend let us take shelter in a home with working a/c.

But eventually we had to come home. Even with all the windows open and the ceiling fans going, it was still a muggy mess. Bjorn and I couldn’t snuggle as any fleshy contact was contaminated with sweat within minutes.

Sunday dawned bright and hot as well. The heat was paralyzing. I lay in bed for as long as possible, as still as possible, before dragging myself off to work.

On Monday, the a/c repair guy showed up. I almost missed him as I was in a stupor from the heat. But the thought of having to endure one more day of an a/c-less existence had me up and running just as the sound of the door bell was fading away. I wrenched open the door with such desperate force that he stopped in his tracks, though he was already 20 feet away. (He must have sensed the desperation of someone who is running dangerously low on ice-cream).

After some hammering and banging in the attic, air, gloriously cool air, began to pour forth from the vents once more.

The savage beast in me subsided. Gone were the thoughts of smacking every object around me in a 3-foot radius. Cancelled was the plan to find the maker of vinyl seats and make her/him listen to my deafening cacaphony of rage. Even my hair calmed down from its outraged humidity pouf into something with a semblance of normality.

Fire? Eh. Printing press or the polio vaccine? Bah. Only air conditioning, sweet sweet air conditioning, could really move civilization forward.

Jammie Karlman is the entertainment editor for the Chico Enterprise-Record. Contact her at buzz@chicoer.com. Follow her on Twitter @JammieKarlman

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2 Responses to Feeling the heat

  1. Payat says:

    Perhaps it would help if you would stop licking the taba.

  2. For you, licking the taba means licking your face, JASON. ;P

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