Widespread Panic

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I thought I got irritated when my fiance's car overheated after fifteen minutes of air conditioning or when smoke came out of his engine for no reason. And I thought I got upset when my computer flakes out on me while I need it for something important. And I actually did sort of panic last night when I temporarily got part of a grape lodged in my windpipe (you never think you'll stand up wide-eyed and freaking out like when you see it on TV or in movies, but you do).

But nothing compared to the almost immediate meltdown that occurred last night when our AC went down.

It was insidious at first, like when mysterious things start happening at the beginning of a horror movie. I smelled a faint scent of burning rubber but couldn't place the origin. I thought it was feeling warmer upstairs but I racked it up to the energy being expended painting the room and the lights being on. But then it was official--the air conditioning wasn't working.

My roommate cursed immediately when he found out but I tried to play it cool (no pun intended). "Let it rest for a while" I suggested, which means nothing of course. He'd turn it on and the big noise would come in the house but no air would come out.

Then it turned into that Twilight Zone episode where everything on that one street stops working and the townspeople start turning on each other. "It's not MY fault" I said. "Well it's not MY fault" he said. "I NEVER SAID IT WAS ANYBODY'S FAULT." "Maybe Jessica touched something while she was here painting?" "No, I was the one who turned the air conditioning on....BUT IT'S NOT MY FAULT."

It's going to be 87 here in Chicago today, so of course it's going to be hot. I don't mind that fact. I am one of those people though who can't sleep unless it's 72 degrees or cooler (because sleeping without a blanket is not really sleeping). Plus we have different forms of company coming over over the next few days. We're still in our annoying "Check out our awesome new place!" phase, and we can't be nearly as obnoxiously proud if we're wiping our sweat on the walls.

I think we had our biggest fight to date over the A/C, and of course, it wasn't really over the A/C but because of the A/C. "Just let me call my Dad and see if he knows what's going on and maybe we can save some money if we seem like we know what we're talking about," he said. "JUST THROW SOME GODDAMN MONEY AT IT AND FIX IT NOW NOW NOW NOW" I said. Not in all caps of course but that's how I felt.

Anyway, I do not expect sympathy from you. I don't have much sympathy for myself. I'm just amazed by how quickly and efficiently one major appliance can induce anger, fear, panic, and of course, sweat. If the terrorists ever want to get us, all they have to do is turn off the air conditioning and then they can sit back and watch us destroy each other.