Wednesday, July 23, 2014
Hot Hot Hot, Not
I want to preface this by making it clear that I'm not complaining about the heat. After eight years in the Sandlands, a summer day in Our Nation's Capital only brushes the lower end of truly hot weather. Hot is 120°F and 100% humidity. Hot is when small items left in the car fuse in a puddle on the dashboard. Hot is when the condensation pours like rain down the windows because you're keeping things a comfortable 50° cooler inside the house than it is out. Today, by that standard, was only very, very slightly hot.
That said - and I hope I've made myself clear - this is a helluva night for the air-conditioning to conk out. Clearly the move out of this dive can't happen too soon.
And it looks like it will, although the byzantine, tortuous process of getting a mortgage is something that beggars description. Especially with the sweat pouring off me, and not nearly as decoratively as it is on the young gentleman above.