When my husband and I moved to Chicago last September, we were a little concerned that our apartment had no air conditioning, but we didn’t particularly want to spend the money on a window unit, so we made a deal with ourselves: we would last as long as we could without. We had grand visions of being hard core, of breaking the back of consumerism, and tossing the cult of comfort out the window.
I am here to declare: today is as far as we made it. July 5th. Less than 2 months away from our year anniversary here in the city, and we are about to catch the bus to Best Buy and drag that window unit back home if it kills us.
Yesterday, the day of the fateful decision, dawned as any other day might–but hotter. We went down to the beach at 8:30 am to take some pictures and test the light for an upcoming photoshoot (more on that later). By 8:31 am, I was covered in sweat. By 8:32 am, I can’t even tell you what was happening since my brain had decided it was time to check out.
We came back to the apartment around 9:15. Around 10:30 I fell into some kind of sleep/daze, in which I remained until 12:30.
I had planned on:
-Making Garlic Stuffed Portobello Mushrooms
-Processing pictures from Steve and Steph’s wedding
-Finalizing blog posts for Apple Muffins, Fried Catfish, and Spicy Garlic Lemon Sauce
-Figuring out imovie and working on the slideshow for my sister Erica’s upcoming wedding
-Reading Dostoevsky’s complete works
Nothing even remotely similar occurred.
As my husband gazed at my pathetic pile of self, he decided the only wise course of action was to get me to the nearest Starbucks and spend the rest of the time before church (at 5pm) in an air conditioned space. As soon as I had cooled down, my brain started functioning and I became interested in living this thing called “life” once again. As I wept tears of gratitude into my Pike Place Roast, I reached a conclusion: we need to buy a window unit pronto. But don’t get me wrong–it’s not because I become a pathetic pile in the heat–it’s because the heat was preventing me from blogging! And you all are my priority, man. So it’s not like we’re wimping out–it’s all for you.
Besides my brain ceasing to operate, some other indicators that we really, really need a unit:
1. Butter has melted in butter dish
2. Box of chocolates from our San Francisco friends has melted
3. Any thought of turning on the stove/oven has become horrific
4. Sleep: impossible
5. Cuddling: ludicrous
6. Toilet seat is sweaty