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Uncle Crappy

“words. pictures. beer.”

June 1, 2007 it’s magic.

We started to do it again.

A beastly hot week last summer finally prompted us to get a window air conditioner for our apartment. This was after years and years of suffering through summer heat in an apartment that has only two window.

The fans were enough, we said.

It gets really hot only one or two weeks a year, we said.

Of course, we instantly realized that we had been idiots, as soon as that Goldstar started pumping cool air into the house last July. We vowed we’d never do without AC again.

So it’s been hot all week, hot enough that the temps in the apartment might dip into the lower 70s by the time we wake up in the morning. We were doing the same freaking thing — trying to get by with fans, thinking we’d bring the AC unit up when it got really hot.

This morning, The Wife stepped out of the shower and into 81-degree heat. Inside. I was already sweating when I woke up. And the cat had displaying his heat-related, fur-covered misery behaviors. As in not moving except to eat and poop.

I told Miles I was bringing the Magic Box upstairs. He doesn’t know what air conditioning is, but he knows he likes it. A lot.

So. The Magic Box is installed and running. When I return from running my errands this afternoon, I’ll come home to an apartment with cool, dry allergen-free air. All hail the Magic Box.

–

So. Someone ask me what I did yesterday.

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