Here at the M house, we are going on Week 3 sans air conditioning. And it's August. I am s-w-e-a-t-i-n-g my cahoonas off. Well, not really. I don't actually have cahoonas, I don't think anyway. Let me re-phrase that: I am s-w-e-a-t-i-n-g my mascara-laquered eyelashes off, praying that Derek will change the weather forecast to accomodate those of us without A.C.. But no, it's going to be in the 90s for THE NEXT THREE DAYS. Ohhhhh, good gravy with taco sauce and hot tamales, puh-lease let fall weather magically appear. Otherwise, we're going to turn into a nudist commune due to that fact that all clothing is uncomfortably sticky. Ick.
Now, in defense of the air conditioner, it is thirty years old. Yes, you read that right: thirty. We are due to purchase a new one, though feel it senseless since it is the end of the season and don't forsee these 90 degree days to be around much longer. Then again, wasn't it like 80 in November last year? Doggone global warming...
Anyway, we do plan to replace it. Just not until next spring. So, until then, I'll just sit here, positioned in front of our trusty box fan, with sweat pooling at my ankles, and chomp another cup of ice cubes. And take pleasure in the fact that our energy bill we be significantly reduced this month. See, there's always a silver lining :)
Oh, and my house is sooooo not as clean as it appears in that picture. But, I did start the laundry yesterday AND unload the dishwasher. If I could only remember those darn library books. Sigh.
P.S. Derek is sooooo my meteoroligist crush. Love him. Sing it with me now, Cincinnatians: Derek said it would be like thiiiiiiiiiiiis!