I hadn't really noticed how hot it had gotten in our fair burg, until my car battery died Friday after work. I endured the heat waiting for Erik to get there, because Enose was on, and I love me some Corby. Once I finished working on my base tan, we went to get a new battery, and after some odd Wal-Mart customer service math, I walked out with a $36 battery that only cost me $14. Score.
Saturday morning, 7am, Erik asks the question that can only mean bad things: "Is it hot in here to you?" On the second attempt to flip the breaker to the failed A/C unit, it catches on fire. After some fun phone drama, the fire department is called, several voice mail messages are left for the useless property management company, followed by a personal visit to their offices to get the ball rolling, or their heads, whichever came first.
A/C guy shows up, and tells us that Monday morning we'll have a spankin' new air conditioner. He is now my favorite guy named Wayne. So, we packed up the kittones and our shizz, and spent the weekend at Erik's parents. We had some good times, made a trip to the ghetto spectacular, known as Hurst, to have a little B-day partay for my Mom. It was good times all around. Now it's Monday, the A/C is all fixed, and life is back to abnormal.
