Last week, Tuesday the 2nd, to be specific, it got hot. Crazy hot. Super Crazy We’re Living on the Surface of the Sun Hot. Set records, it was like 107′ or 108′F, depending on who you talk to, record-setting, blah blah blah. James went to play backgammon and I spent the evening (in front of a fan) chatting with my wise Auntie Karen. I thought it felt warm in the house, but when it’s 95′ at 10pm at night, and you’ve been hearing for weeks that the a/c units really can only do so much against heat like this, I just didn’t think anything more except how this horrible heat was providing me with an hourly basis to bitch and moan. James got home late-ish, we stayed up for a while, then went to bed and turned all the fans on “HIGH”. It was still uncomfortable in the house, after midnight.

You see where this is going, right?

Next morning, it’s warm, and James realizes that the unit is lagging or something and so he turns it off to hose it down and clean it (something that works pretty well, usually.) I’m working in my little office, with the fan on high and thinking I’m definitely going through The Change. By midday, it is established that the a/c is not working. Nothing. Dead. I called for service – they can’t come until the next day. (Understandably, we’re in the midst of the worst heat wave EVER!) We decided another night of sweating, tossing & turning was NOT desirable, so James got on Priceline, and within an hour, I was throwing everything I could think of into luggage, destination Holiday Inn on the Plaza. It’s interesting, because even going away for just one night – one! – I am convinced that some massive speed demon is going to take over, and I should probably bring a minimum of two projects, and possibly consider starting a third, just in case. In case of what? I don’t know. The zombie apocalypse? I had to bring both laptops, and I made the terrible mistake of not packing snacks. SNACKS! I had to pay $1.75 for a bottle of Sprite when we finally got to our room, the vending machines are highway robbery. But it was 87′ in the house, I plead heat-addled. I was throwing random things into my suitcase, and I kept thinking, “It’s like I’m fleeing my homeland!”

Then I proceeded to worry, worry, worry. Because I had been hearing tales of a/c replacement. And the associated price tags. In fact, one person told me the quote they got for both heating and cooling? TWELVE FUCKING GRAND. She footnoted it later that it had a lot to do with replacing all their duct work as well, but hell, woman, you scared the bejeezus out of me! So now I’m playing mind games – if it’s less than $X, that’s good. GOOD. If it’s over $Y, we’re going to have to donate plasma and see if the dogs have any harvestable organs. We opened up windows, turned on fans, put ice in the water bowl for the pooches, and checked in on them periodically while our hotel room iced down and we actually got a pretty good night of sleep. The next day wasn’t nearly as hot, thankfully, and we coordinated schedules to get James home in time to meet with the repairman.

Filled with dread, I called as I was heading home, as I knew they’d arrived.

It was already fixed. $350. There’s an electrical gizmo that’s plastic, and if you don’t get all the louvered thingies all the way around the unit cleaned off, it can get clogged, build up heat, and melt that particular gizmo. They also boosted the freon, and were done in an hour. Oh sweet relief. Sweet cold air. We actually had to re-adjust our thermostat, because it now blows so cold, our feet were freezing in the house at the old settings! Home ownership. Not for the faint of heart, or those without deodorant.

But know, when the zombie apocalypse comes, I’ll have plenty of knitting projects, if you’re holed up with us.