It's not just hot here. It's not normal. I discovered yesterday that it's at least ten degrees hotter in the living room than it is outside. And worse, another ten degrees hotter in my bedroom. At the risk of going all cliche on my ass, the only way to really describe it is like opening an oven door.
Granted, it's not hundreds of degrees hotter indoors. But I'm not baking a cake in here either. The inside heat is oppressive. No cross breeze throughout the entire day in any part of this apartment. It seems unlikely at first glance. We are an end unit, with windows on three sides of the apartment. The front room is just about all windows.
It's not even that the windows are attracting the heat. It's that the heat becomes stagnant in the middle of each room. The air doesn't circulate. It's suffocating. My bedroom floor, for some unknown reason, gets warm. It starts off being cool in the morning. By noon, it feels like there's a fire brewing below my feet.
I guess this means it'll be very cold in the winter. Poor insulation.
I never even turned the TV on last night for fear it would make things hotter. It didn't start cooling off in here till after midnight. Still, I woke up at 3 AM and took Hunny out, knowing it would be cooler than daylight. We're not cut out for this kind of heat, inside.
Inside is the key word. Air conditioning makes all the difference. Even just a little bit. Just to cool the desert air in our home.
I can hardly breathe in this air. It's only 10 AM. I'm not looking forward to my day.
I did buy a folding chair so Hunny and I can sit outside, in the cement walkway of our building. No yard, no patio, no sundeck, no pool, no grass. Just cement, at the bottom of our stairs, by the laundry room. There is a big tree against the building. It provides for shade, which is part of what makes it cooler out there than in here.
I must be delirious. I found myself singing a little tune in the kitchen. As I got more into it -- cleaning the kitchen, making coffee, feeding Hunny, preparing for the heat of day -- I realized it was a snazzy, jazzy version of Roto Rooter. You know the one, Roto Rooter, that's the name. And away goes trouble down the drain. The snazzy-ness of it became more jazzy and romantic. I suppose it was an unconscious cry for respite.
We need A/C but the portable-kind is expensive. I'd rather invest in that so we can take it with us when we move out. I left word with my landlord, asking if she'd be willing to get AC installed for us. Doesn't hurt to ask for something. All she can do is say no. Maybe she'll be willing to pay for installation if we buy a window-kind. [Geez, I don't even know the square footage of this place.]
Who knows? I'm sure she's comfy in her place.
I know when I had central air in my last place, I was very comfortable. Summer heat and dogwalking was brutal but I knew I was going home to comfort.
Today, I find no comfort in fighting the heat with dogs all day and then come home to even more heat. Nope. I don't. Does not make for a happy camper.
I get weak, dizzy and loopy. I can only imagine how Hunny feels with her fur coat.
OK, enough. I'm not really feeling that sorry for myself. It just sucks knowing I have had, can have (and deserve) better.
On a positive note, considering my physical discomfort in here, I was productive yesterday as I revisited that old project. I read old drafts and took a few notes that I think will serve the project. Don't want to spoil it, so I'm going to shut up and keep at it. So what if I have to read in the car. Hunny sits next to me in the passenger's seat and rests with the air blowing on her face. Hey, whatever works. I'd sleep in there if it didn't stink like doggy. Whew!var sc_project=363581; var sc_partition=1; var sc_security="";