Death of an air conditioner

The air conditioner in our living room died today. The odd thing was that I didn’t even realize it — Chris did. He notified our super about this, who will look into this tomorrow, but as I realized that the air was not cool while preparing dinner this afternoon, I thought about the couple of years I lived in that third floor Elmhurst apartment and didn’t have an AC until my landlord gave me the one his former tenant left behind. I can’t even believe I somehow managed to sleep with just a fan blowing on me for two summers.

I guess that’s what you do when you are young, don’t think you make that much money, and are cheap: you think you can “tough” it out without “luxuries” like air conditioners, and you deal with crappy fans and somehow think you are better for it. You’ll save money by not buying an air conditioner! Your electricity bill won’t go up! You don’t need all that, right? In retrospect, I regret being so cheap and pathetic. I never had a low income while living in New York. I was always able to live comfortably and do what I wanted. I could have been more comfortable all those summer nights and not have woken up dripping in my own sweat, feeling like I was sleeping in an oven.

Life is short. You should live comfortably and at least allow yourself a comfortable night’s sleep. It’s the least you owe yourself.

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