Get Off My Lawn

I can't tell if he's laughing or crying.

It’s Too Damn Hot

This encore presentation is brought to you by Colette at WriterInSoul which is a blog everyone should check out and is a favourite of mine. Just don’t ask to take a look at her stuffed bear!

So it seems my complaining about the cold has been heard, and then some, by the gods, and now they have seen fit to teach me a lesson. The temperature here in frozen Edmonton has finally turned a corner and we have some glorious temps of +10 and sunshine. This is good. But the heat in our building is on full blast. And by our building I mean our two-bedroom apartment. This weekend the temp indoors has been hovering around +26 to +27. We have had to leave our windows open and that helps, but we live across from the air ambulance helipad and when the helicopter is taking off and landing the noise is pretty intense. And to complain seems to be in really bad taste: Old man shakes his fist at air ambulance: “You damn ‘clinging to life victims’ and your need for immediate medical attention are too damn noisy!” Old man shuts balcony door in callous disgust. Yeah, so that isn’t going to happen.

So I called the leasing office and, of course, no one is there. I called the security desk. I was told that maintenance was only on call for the weekend and only come in on weekends for emergencies. I was going to ask, “Is heat stroke an emergency?” But really I wasn’t having heat stroke. I was just uncomfortable.

So this morning I called the leasing  office. Every time I deal with the office it is a different 12-year-old. No, not really 12, but young. The turnover rate must be around 90%. I’m assuming the pay and working conditions must be just a touch north of sugar plantation slave in 1743. I was told the whole building was one giant concrete crock pot and they are working on getting things fixed. I assume this means telling the shirtless, bald, on punishment detail maintenance worker that he can stop shoveling coal into the massive furnaces which I can only assume talk in the voice of a devil, laughing and demanding to be fed.

So, though I could be really annoyed about yet another example of how this building seems to be run by children with no adult supervision, I am grateful. Do you hear that, gods? I said I’m grateful! Spring has arrived and now I look forward to long days and a massive blue sky.

Categories: Humour, Non-Fiction

Tags: , , ,

20 replies

  1. I bitch all the time that the fatties in my office keep the AC on during the winter all day every day. I freeze constantly. However, today I’m sweating my balls off. Out AC has broken, again. It was 90 degrees monday and in the 70s today and yesterday. I was already told I can’t take my top off. It is super tough to be nice to the asshole patients when you’re hot. Ugh

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I think I remember this one. The “giant concrete crock pot” sounds familiar. Or maybe that’s just because I love my crock pot. So, the question is, one year later, is it still as hot?

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Ahaha! This is just as funny on second read! Such great lines! “…seen fit to teach me a lesson,” “You damn ‘clinging to life’ victims,” “each time… a different 12 year old,” “the shirtless, bald, on punishment detail maintenance worker ,” and the one that’s undoing me, “the pay and working conditions must be just a touch north of sugar plantation slave in 1743.” You’re killing me here!

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Hahahahahahahaha! Beautifully written as usual.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. John, your humor is that of my extended family! Come August here in sunny Arizona, I’m going to steal these lines. Theft is the highest form of flattery 😀

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s