This weekend has been absolutely abysmal. The air conditioner in my apartment died a wimpering death on friday afternoon. I got home from work and walked into the sauna that was my place of residence. Inside thermometer read 92F. I was livid. My roomate and I have been around with our landlord for years about this stupid air conditioner. The amount of money spent on all the service calls could’ve gotten a top-notch compressor, but that’s our landlord. Always out for the bottom line.
I called the landlord on saturday morning to verify that my roomate called the afternoon before. He answered and we had a chat about the situation. Said that the A/C service company doesn’t like to answer the phones after 5pm on Friday. His words reeked of bullshit to me; he didn’t want to pay weekend emergency rates, that’s what the truth really is. Said he would call at 8am monday. He had no interest in taking care of us, his 5-year residents of this complex.
I’m serious when I say we better have somebody out tomorrow to fix this and leave with a fully-functional air conditioning system, because this is shit. Complete shit. For two days my apartment has been in the 90’s…it’s supposed to be 74. No reason for making us live in this hell any further.
But we’re trying to deal with it the best we can. We have two box fans and three portables, but it’s still not enough to move the volume of hot air in our house, not enough to dilute it with tepid outside air. I was able to keep the inside temp in certain areas at parity with the outside temp of 92F yesterday — which is commendable. All those years of living in the damn projects with no A/C taught me good enough, I guess.
I’ve had no good sleep for the past two nights and I’ve got a ragged edge because of that. Doing what I can; I have a box fan in my bedroom window above the head of my bed. There’s a dish towel clothespinned to the bottom half of it to help deflect air down to my bed. It helps, mostly. Wake up in the middle of the night to cover up. But I’m still sticky with the humidity. No A/C to dry the air. Taking two cold showers a day now; afternoon and bedtime. Wearing almost nothing, and it’s still horrible. Can’t lay down, can’t sit, can’t recline…there’s no escape but to not be at home.
I had left work friday fully expecting to have a chilled-out, laid back, casual weekend. Thanks to ancient equipment and an uncaring landlord, that has been destroyed. I am so angry.
Update: The A/C repairman arrived around noon on Monday. He had a replacement fan motor in his van and was done with his work in 20 minutes. TWENTY MINUTES, and my damn landlord made us suffer the whole fucking weekend.