Sardonic Sistah Says

Observations… Ruminations… Ponderances… & Rants from Another Perspective

If You Can’t Stand the Heat

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I may be one of the few people who love summer.  I mean, I really love summer.  I don’t complain about the heat until it gets to 95 degrees and its humid.  All I need is a cold glass of water and a book and I’m set for a hot and hazy day.

As for my husband J, he starts to sweat at 65 degrees.

Its hard trying to find the right temperature.  I hate air conditioning.  They freeze me all day at work and when I leave I’m standing in the sun trying to thaw out until I climb on the bus where I’m, again, thrust into the cold air.  So when I come home I don’t want cold air; I don’t mind the heat.

But then J lumbers in and says, “Oh my God, its’ so hot out there!  Why isn’t the air on?” then heads straightaway to adjust the thermostat.

So its really irking me.  This is the whole point of summer –the heat.  Isn’t this what we’ve been dreaming about all winter long, when we were locked away in our homes against the white death?  But now cabin fever is a thing of the past because kids and parents are now tucked away in their special corner with climate control all year long watching tv or playing video games.  Skate boarding, roller skating and interfacing  interacting with friends can now be done without leaving the home becasue technology deems it so.

But as for me, I need the outdoors although the grass, trees and flowers are all converging to kill me with massive amounts of pollen and mold.

Indoors, though, is a battle over the thermostat.  As soon as he changes it I will go and modify it a little while later.  I’ll move for the cold air to blow for a shorter period or change the temperature a notch or two.  J advises me to wear “warmer” clothes, the same thing he says in the winter when I complain about being cold. 

“I don’t want to wear a winter coat in the summertime!” I cry.  “Why should I wear a sweater in the summer?”

“You’re the one complaining about being cold,” J is still fanning himself in the blast of the artic air thats coming through the vents.

Our personal colors belie our true sensibilities.  J has a penchant for orange shirts and I think I look good in blue.  He’s like the sun and I’m like the moon, I thought.  But then I realized its the other way around, that I am heat and he is the cool.

I’m not beyond compromise.  “Why don’t we get a fan?” I suggested.  “An oscillating one that can cool down a whole room.”  He said they didn’t work.

I recounted that in our last place he didn’t complain about the heat as much but I know it was a lie.  We had a small air conditioner that he kept threatening to hook up but didn’t because we feared it would be a continual trip to the basement to hit the fuses back on.  He complained that whole summer.

At night I fall asleep under the big comforter, freezing from the air but by 3am the ac is turned off for the night and the temperature begins to rise.  Its 80 degrees in the house and I kick the comforter to the floor.  “Man, its hot in here,” I think as I fall back to sleep.

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Written by rentec

8 July, 2007 at 3:59 am

Posted in marriage

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