Good afternoon, lovelies!
I had a damn good weekend.
I napped, had pizza, had burgers, Game of Thrones, and quality Besty time.
Holy crap. Game of Thrones. Did NOT see that coming.
The only bad parts — being hung over on Sunday… because wine, beer, whisky, vodka…
Also my AC is dripping. Profusely.
I’m extremely hesitant to call it flooding, because it’s not.
It’s just an accumulation of water on the floor.
But the drip has made it off the laminate and onto the carpet and I have towels keeping it at bay.
S.O. wanted me to call the emergency maintenance line, but when the guidelines mentioned flooding, it was talking about a broken pipe. Also pertaining to AC, it said only if it was BROKE and NOT WORKING in temperatures over 90. Which it was over 90, but the damn thing was still going.
So I put in a high priority maintenance request.
And I also called this morning and left a message requesting that if the need me there to call me at work and I can swing by.
So far, nada.
But it doesn’t surprise me. When the water valves for my washer were rusted shut, I’d called the main line, left a message and within like an hour a dude showed up to fix it. I never got a call back.
S.O. was having what I can only describe as an anxious meltdown over it. Just weird tetchiness.
When things like that happen, he gets awfully paranoid. On the way over to Besty’s we stopped to get gas for his truck and he like rolled up the windows and locked me in…
When it was almost 100 outside.
People die in hot cars.
When I got on to him, his response “It’s the only way I can make it secure.”
What the fuck do you think is going to happen while I’m sitting in the truck and you walk in for a whole minute to pay the man.
WITH a cop two pumps over.
When things like this happen, his paranoia overcomes rational thoughts.
But he was being annoyingly paranoid over my drippy AC unit.
“Do you wanna tell Besty and Motorhead about the drip?” he asked an hour before we left.
I was busy making bacon wrapped jalapeno poppers.
I raised my eyebrow, “why?”.
“Well… we could have to stay home.”
Hold up. My AC is dripping and you want to stay home.
Hokay! Physics! There is only so much my AC can condense. It’s a slow, but steady drip (FYI it was dripping along a bar, so we couldn’t just like… stick a pot under it). It’s not like there’s a broken pipe or an active fire or the ceiling caved in, or the roof leaking.
Just throw down some towels.
Also, ever little sound that came from that direction, he had to go investigate…
Like, the pan popped in the oven, run and investigate. Cat knocked something over. Go investigate. Thunder, go investigate.
I mean, I appreciate the vigilance, but that’s a lot of worry over nothing.
Also, one of the glorious things about being a renter — if appliances (provided by the apartment) break, I don’t have to pay to fix it.
One place I lived, the AC broke three times in a week and they had to give us a new AC.
Guess who didn’t have to pay for it?
I dunno about S.O’s paranoia, it was just weird.
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