(Lovin' Spoonful, 1966)
Not long ago I was demanding that a pox come upon the cold snap we had. Now I'm including this miserable, sweltering mess. It's 12:03, I'm in my office and I'm nearly dripping with sweat. It's SO disgusting. You'd think at this time of night it would be cooler, but not in MY office. I've got a fan blower on the air conditioning vent, a ceiling fan and a box fan trying to draw in cooler air from our bedroom. It's so obviously not working.
My office is just off our bedroom and was finished in 2000; I think in a prior life it was a steam sauna from the pioneer days. Or maybe hell. Ron doesn't think there's enough insulation in the walls. I just think there's not enough damn cool air. Each year he tries something new - more duct work, this blower on the vent, closing the bathroom vent to force more air in here. How about putting more insulation in the walls?
I think I'd be better off filling a tub with ice and putting a fan behind it. No, can't do that. I saw a CSI once where a man did that and the ice melted and ran down the floor to the wall where it encountered some faulty wiring. That guy's now permanently on ice.
You know what I'd kill for right this second? A motel room. I'd crank down the a/c so low that I'd swear I was at the North Pole. Bring on the Eskimo Pies.
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