Life Lessons – a bit of growing up, and other tid bits

Like much of the eastern half of the country, the Richmond area has been boiling the past few days. Though I'm not a great fan of triple digit heat, I spent good chunks of Saturday and Sunday outside. Air conditioning felt great whenever I went inside, but I didn't feel compelled to be in the humidity- and temperature-controlled spaces.

Fast forward to this morning when I woke to find the temperature in the house at 81 degrees, and the central air was making no effort to kick on. The morning routine got thrown for a loop — of course — as I messed with the electronic thermostat, went in search of our breaker box, and frantically called the landlord. (Side note: these are the moments I am glad I'm not a homeowner yet.) The temperatures were slated to hit triple digits again, and I was worried about Reilly among other things. I also watched Banana's cheeks get pink, and her brow get a little sweaty even after a cool shower.

I toughed my way through some obscenely hot summers in Boston and New York without AC. Some of those nights on Fresh Pond Parkway, on West Fourth Street, on Degraw Street were more sweat than sleep, but I never fully broke down and took the step to air conditioning. Now, I apparently can't live without it.

Sure. I sit here writing, not feeling particularly bad, but I'm sweating. And I can feel the air trickling in from the outside, as much as ten degrees cooler than the 88 degrees the thermostat currently reads. There's a primal, martyrish feeling to toughing it through, but the reality is that I had to remind myself that we could make it until tomorrow when the new motor would be installed, that we didn't have to call friends and stay with them. What a wimp living in the south has made me... Sheesh.

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Banana continues to be a bit of an emotional roller coaster. She wants more Mommy time, maybe a little less divorce still. Ah well... On the bright side, Banana Mére and I talked about the situation today. We're on the same page as maintaining the stability on the basic schedule, with a little more time shifted to mommy-daughter time. Talking helps most of the time.

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I paid $4.19 for regular gas this weekend. A basic birthday card cost almost $4. Bit by bit, I see my grocery bills going up — even when we shop at Kroger. I have this queasy feeling that things are going to get worse before they get better.