The weather seems to be relieving its horrid humid grip on the city, thank fuck. I know my roommates will murder me for bitching about it since they've had it much worse without air conditioning in their rooms, but I don't care -- I hate sweat.
Does it make me a terrible person that I horde the A/C in my room when my roommates apparently haven't slept in days? I don't think so, it's only logical that I'd have my air conditioner in my room, but I still feel guilty. Not guilty enough to have some sort of bed-a-palooza fest where they sleep in my room or anything, but guilty enough to feel guilty which in the end isn't very guilty at all since it spurs no action.
But hey, once it got hot enough I tossed my brand new enormous fan out into the livingroom for communal use, since I didn't need it once my A/C was installed. That's something!
Anyway, it is cooler today and tonight it's supposed to storm and we're going to drop 10 degrees or so. 10 vital degrees, 10 degrees between relative comfort and back-aching, underpants-soiling torture.
Boyfriend and I are supposed to go see some Opera In The Park thing tonight, which sounds gay to me but he listed off all the snacks he's ammassed for it and that set my mind to ease. Promise me good eats and I'll do your crazy bidding.
Does it make me a terrible person that I horde the A/C in my room when my roommates apparently haven't slept in days? I don't think so, it's only logical that I'd have my air conditioner in my room, but I still feel guilty. Not guilty enough to have some sort of bed-a-palooza fest where they sleep in my room or anything, but guilty enough to feel guilty which in the end isn't very guilty at all since it spurs no action.
But hey, once it got hot enough I tossed my brand new enormous fan out into the livingroom for communal use, since I didn't need it once my A/C was installed. That's something!
Anyway, it is cooler today and tonight it's supposed to storm and we're going to drop 10 degrees or so. 10 vital degrees, 10 degrees between relative comfort and back-aching, underpants-soiling torture.
Boyfriend and I are supposed to go see some Opera In The Park thing tonight, which sounds gay to me but he listed off all the snacks he's ammassed for it and that set my mind to ease. Promise me good eats and I'll do your crazy bidding.
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