The A/C in the house is broken. It’s been broken for over a month, and as it turns out, we need a new compressor, which would be about $1800 to replace on an 11 year old appliance that needs to be replaced, or we need a new one, which latest quote from a slimy guy I refuse to let Brandus talk to again, would be over $2800.

So, we melt.

Brandus and I do, anyway. The child doesn’t seem to care – he’s currently wearing a sweatshirt and keeps hiding under the blankets and talking about how cozy he is. I think he must be broken, because he is weird.

It’s been getting to about 87 downstairs, and that’s with all the windows open, the ceiling fan, and a box fan, and upstairs is SO MUCH WORSE, which means we aren’t sleeping and are cranky, even with all the windows open, the ceiling fan, and a box fan.

Tonight, we’re dragging out the air mattress and sleeping in the living room. Although I am reluctant to sleep naked in my living room with the blinds open, for some reason.

The kid is whining about being cold and wanting another blanket. What is wrong with this picture?

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