The weather forecast for the next seven days goes something like this – 90, 92, 96, 96, 94, 89. No kidding. Welcome to Pennsylvania in June.
This evening, I mentioned to Joe that it was awfully hot in our house. I was sweating while rocking the baby to sleep, and my Calamine-covered poison ivy rash was getting all hot and fiery and itchier than normal.
Joe checked the thermostat, and he said “It's set at 76.”
“Good, what's the actual temperature in the house?”
“Uh, about 84.”
Hmm. Sounds like the A/C is on the fritz. Not good. Not good at all. When I get too warm, I melt into a puddle of goo. It's ugly, and I whine.
Joe set out to investigate and fix the A/C. It's working at the moment, but he thinks it's not going to continue working. We'll call the repair folks first thing in the morning.
In the meantime, though, my husband = my hero.
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