I’ve been enjoying a lovely little saga with my central air conditioning. It stopped working around the end of September. Since then I have had a series of frustrating attempts to get it fixed. The landlord is fixated on only certain people touching his precious house. I’m fixated on not being hot. The other day my glasses were steaming up!
The house is two stories and the top floor heats up like a convection oven as the sun beats on the windows all day. The awesome insulation keeps the heat stored long into the night. Maybe if there is a good ocean breeze it will cool off by about 3 am.
The “Chosen” showed up to work on it a couple of times and couldn’t figure it out. They would just wander off at some point shaking their heads. Today they left saying they were going to get a part, never to be seen again. Another guy is maybe going to show up tomorrow, or yet another guy – two more of the Chosen.
So I decided the heat was getting to me (along with allergies and sinus headache) so I plunked down a wad off cash for a portable air conditioner. A friend helped me lug it upstairs to my bedroom. It was cooling nicely so I thought – at least I’ll be able to sleep.
I did. Until the smoke alarm went off at 5:30 am. I leapt from my bed and searched the house frantically for smoke – nose in the air – nothing! Checked on my parrots – they were fine. What the hell? I stood on a stool to reset the alarm. Maybe it was the new portable air conditioner? Maybe there was some dust being blown out of it. No idea. So I turned off the air and crawled back into bed. 15 minutes later I was catapulted out of bed again by that horrendous screeching alarm. I wished I had ear plugs. This time I got dressed and searched the house again. Checked on the birds again – they were fine. If there were any smoke they would be in trouble fast.
I climbed up on the stool again and frantically pushed the button – it finally reset. Now I had to decide: just stay up waiting for the next burst of delightful sound or try to sleep again? Well…maybe I should share the joy with the landlord. Good morning! He said call him again if it happens again – you bet I will.
I have to say I’ve dealt with this frustration better than I would have years ago. Years ago I would have been screaming and pitching fits and making a fuss. I’m not a doormat though – I basically told the landlord I’d find someone myself if he couldn’t get his chosen masters to show up and fix it.
I had a big laugh together over it because he was worried the one guy’s helper would climb into the ceiling – guy was huge, maybe 300 pounds – he warned me, don’t go upstairs if he does the ceiling might come down. Sometimes you have to just have a good laugh when life is frustrating.
