Central air conditioning is my religion. Without it, I would be lost…or at least completely unable to live in Sacramento. The man who invented it should be sainted.
You think I’m cranky now? Just stick me somewhere in the 90+ degree heat with nothing but a mere fan to take the edge off. I couldn’t blog my whiny complaints fast enough.
Did you just suggest a swamp cooler? You have got to be kidding.
Aren’t there statistics that show there is a correlation between a rise in temperatures and a rise in crime? There must be. Someone in my old office in San Francisco would say that anytime the mercury climbed above 90 it was “stabbin’ weather.” He was kind of an ass, but probably correct.
What I really hate is sweating for no reason. If I’m just sitting on the couch and watching TV or standing in line for the post office, I should never be sweating. Applying eyeliner is a little tough when there is a rivulet of sweat navigating its way down your face.
I also can’t sleep when it’s too hot. Shutting down my usual racing thoughts tends to be nigh impossible. Maybe the heat stimulates my brain in action or maybe it’s just frying inside my skull.
So, I end up paying homage (or a very large bill) to SMUD in order to keep my electricity running and the A/C cranked down to 78. OK, once in a while I can’t take it and scooch the thermostat down to 76. You all do this…I know you do. I’ve heard of epic fights over the settings on that little box in my hall.
Isn’t in crazy how one or two degrees can change a person’s mood?