Yes Lara,
My father and I fight over the thermostat. Neither one of us wants to have a confrontation so we don't say a word. We just quietly push the ON and OFF thing over to the function that we want. My dad likes OFF and I like whatever the hell I want. Usually here in Florida, I want to turn on the AC.
Unfortunately, it's not as though you can hide it from him for any length of time because the apartment goes from 115 degrees down to 72. And as it does so, cold air blows through the middle of each room from one of the vents that work like mother fuckers. They're in the ceiling and they blow like McDonnell Douglas made the motor. Shit blows off of the coffee table so he knows as soon as I turn it on.
He just quietly walks over to the thermostat and flips the switch to OFF. So, I wait until he either...
A. goes to bed
B. goes to the store
C. drives the trash over to the compactor (I don't care how old the man in the house is...I don't do trash.)
...and then I flip it back on and stand in front of one of the vents with my arm pits getting blown on.
When we were growing up, my parents had an air conditioner...in their room. That's the only room in the house that ever got cool. If we wanted to, occasionally we could go in there with them if they were watching TV...but to be in their presence only increased your chances of getting in trouble so it wasn't worth the temporary cool air. Usually, I would just go back to my own room and lay on my bed looking for a cool piece of pillow to stick my head on. My room was a dormer/attic room so it was as hot as hell. I was upstairs and my room formed a gable so the walls were straight for 3 feet and then they went up like a triangle to form an angle on my ceiling. That room was pretty cool, figuratively speaking. But literally speaking, it had to be the hottest room in the house.
He could keep me sweating as a kid. But now I'm older by far than he was then and I think he respects that. At least he respects it enough to be afraid to have the verbal confrontation over that stupid AC. The fact that he just goes behind my back means that he, for whatever reason, would rather do that than bitch at me. So, at some level we're equal...I don't want to argue with him either so I just put the damn AC back on and hope that he doesn't come back for a while.
If I had to lie there and sweat all night, I would just go check into a hotel. That's the nice thing about being grown up. He has to know that. He knows me...so he should know that I know the way to the check-in desk. I would prefer to leave the air on a mutually agreed upon setting but nothing over 90 is acceptable to me and nothing under 90 seems to suit his old self. So, instead, we just play the old AC game, especially at night.
This is how it works...I fall asleep watching TV with him in the living room. He eventually just goes to bed. That wakes me up so I wait a while and then I go turn the AC on. Within a few minutes, it's relatively comfortable and I go back to sleep.
Then, at some point, my father wakes up and turns the stupid thing back to OFF. I wake up in a puddle of sweat on that leather couch and turn the air back on. This is when I actually go to bed. I turn the AC on and climb into my bed. Once again, as soon as I'm comfortable, I fall asleep.
My comfort must wake Dad up because he gets out of bed AGAIN and turns the damn thing to OFF again. Now, if you've never been to Florida, let me explain something. It can get real fucking hot here. Not just "nice" hot...but Sahara Desert hot. At night it doesn't get much cooler and the planet is still cooking from the day's sunshine anyway so I wake up soon after he turns it off. It's the kind of hot that will wake your ass up from a deep sleep. So, once again, I turn on the AC. Then, I go back in the living room, lie down on the couch and turn the TV on to some interesting crap like History's Mysteries. Once I'm comfortable, I drift off again.
Of course, once again I send off loud "comfort waves" that hit my father like the heat hits me and he wakes up to turn the AC off again.
I wake up in the sweat puddle for the last time, make coffee, turn the AC back on and wait for him to wake up for the day. When he comes out of his room, he turns the AC back to OFF.
When he comes into the kitchen, I ask him to take out the trash and go pick up some fresh Bismarks. Now the daily fight to keep comfortable begins. I'm already exhausted from the night's little AC battle.
OK then, I'm going to answer the same questions again that I answered yesterday. See ya later!
:):):)
My father and I fight over the thermostat. Neither one of us wants to have a confrontation so we don't say a word. We just quietly push the ON and OFF thing over to the function that we want. My dad likes OFF and I like whatever the hell I want. Usually here in Florida, I want to turn on the AC.
Unfortunately, it's not as though you can hide it from him for any length of time because the apartment goes from 115 degrees down to 72. And as it does so, cold air blows through the middle of each room from one of the vents that work like mother fuckers. They're in the ceiling and they blow like McDonnell Douglas made the motor. Shit blows off of the coffee table so he knows as soon as I turn it on.
He just quietly walks over to the thermostat and flips the switch to OFF. So, I wait until he either...
A. goes to bed
B. goes to the store
C. drives the trash over to the compactor (I don't care how old the man in the house is...I don't do trash.)
...and then I flip it back on and stand in front of one of the vents with my arm pits getting blown on.
When we were growing up, my parents had an air conditioner...in their room. That's the only room in the house that ever got cool. If we wanted to, occasionally we could go in there with them if they were watching TV...but to be in their presence only increased your chances of getting in trouble so it wasn't worth the temporary cool air. Usually, I would just go back to my own room and lay on my bed looking for a cool piece of pillow to stick my head on. My room was a dormer/attic room so it was as hot as hell. I was upstairs and my room formed a gable so the walls were straight for 3 feet and then they went up like a triangle to form an angle on my ceiling. That room was pretty cool, figuratively speaking. But literally speaking, it had to be the hottest room in the house.
He could keep me sweating as a kid. But now I'm older by far than he was then and I think he respects that. At least he respects it enough to be afraid to have the verbal confrontation over that stupid AC. The fact that he just goes behind my back means that he, for whatever reason, would rather do that than bitch at me. So, at some level we're equal...I don't want to argue with him either so I just put the damn AC back on and hope that he doesn't come back for a while.
If I had to lie there and sweat all night, I would just go check into a hotel. That's the nice thing about being grown up. He has to know that. He knows me...so he should know that I know the way to the check-in desk. I would prefer to leave the air on a mutually agreed upon setting but nothing over 90 is acceptable to me and nothing under 90 seems to suit his old self. So, instead, we just play the old AC game, especially at night.
This is how it works...I fall asleep watching TV with him in the living room. He eventually just goes to bed. That wakes me up so I wait a while and then I go turn the AC on. Within a few minutes, it's relatively comfortable and I go back to sleep.
Then, at some point, my father wakes up and turns the stupid thing back to OFF. I wake up in a puddle of sweat on that leather couch and turn the air back on. This is when I actually go to bed. I turn the AC on and climb into my bed. Once again, as soon as I'm comfortable, I fall asleep.
My comfort must wake Dad up because he gets out of bed AGAIN and turns the damn thing to OFF again. Now, if you've never been to Florida, let me explain something. It can get real fucking hot here. Not just "nice" hot...but Sahara Desert hot. At night it doesn't get much cooler and the planet is still cooking from the day's sunshine anyway so I wake up soon after he turns it off. It's the kind of hot that will wake your ass up from a deep sleep. So, once again, I turn on the AC. Then, I go back in the living room, lie down on the couch and turn the TV on to some interesting crap like History's Mysteries. Once I'm comfortable, I drift off again.
Of course, once again I send off loud "comfort waves" that hit my father like the heat hits me and he wakes up to turn the AC off again.
I wake up in the sweat puddle for the last time, make coffee, turn the AC back on and wait for him to wake up for the day. When he comes out of his room, he turns the AC back to OFF.
When he comes into the kitchen, I ask him to take out the trash and go pick up some fresh Bismarks. Now the daily fight to keep comfortable begins. I'm already exhausted from the night's little AC battle.
OK then, I'm going to answer the same questions again that I answered yesterday. See ya later!
:):):)
posted by Meg Kelso | 3:51 AM
1 Comments:
LOL LOL LOL love it, I fully relate haha..
Praps try the old, " your bloody pressure rises and heart works harder when your bodies hot" suggestion lol
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