Holy shiite! It's hot up in here. Smang went to Bryan-College Station last night. I came home after work, hung out with the mutts and was in bed by 1:45am. About 6am, I woke up, covered in sweat. I'd kicked off all my blankets. I was twisted up in part of my sheets. So, I came out to the living room, and put my hand under the vent. Whoa! Hot air! This is Texas, and it is late July. The last thing one wants to feel coming from their cooling vents is hot air.
So, in my 1/2 asleep, 1/2 retarded sweaty haze, I sent Smang a text. Yesterday, before she left town, she'd said she thought something was up. This morning, at 6:13, she received the following message: "Something *is* wrong with the a.c....it's blowing HOT air".
I received the following texts in response: "Shit."
"Goddammit. Shit shit."
and my personal favorite "Crapp."
She was already awake. In less than 30 minutes, she was on her way home. Why does this crap happen at the most inopportune times? It is a Sunday. Which means night/weekend rates apply. Smang was out of town for some work thing, so she had to cancel and come home. I was going to get a new iPod this week. Now, that money has gone to avoid the rigoddamneddiculous Texas mid-July heat.
At this point, I do not even care. It's 10:30am, and I'm already overly hot. I would pay an exorbitant sum to have it feel like a meat locker in here.