"There's nothing quite like having back sweat at 10 a.m." Jeannie Crofts
It is HOT in New York City. After a wacky couple of weeks of up and down temperatures which included plenty of cold, jacket-wearing days, it is now in the "you didn't know you could sweat there" range. Yesterday hit 90 (which felt like 93 with the humidity and 103 with all the concrete) and today is going to be the same.
Now don't get me wrong, I love wearing flip-flops, short-shorts and tube tops as much as the next 34-year old who should have given up that dream years ago, but there's a certain kind of hot that even the skimpiest of outfits can't fix: the apartment with no a/c.
Of course, I wasn't expecting our pre-war, 1890 building to have central air, but we don't even have a window unit. I guess in NYC, that's the kind of item you take with you when you leave (along with bed bugs.)
On Thursday before the heat wave, I met Mike at Bed, Bath and Beyond so we could purchase our first window a/c unit. It actually worked pretty well: we bought it and then for an extra $15, the store delivered it the next day. Two very, sweaty men graciously lugged the 67-pound unit up four flights of stairs.
But here's the problem: Mike went out of town that day, so we weren't able to install it. I opened the box that now sits on our bedroom floor, but when I turned the a/c on, it pumped out just as much hot air in the back as it did cold air in the front. It's basically the electrical version of a politician.
I tried calling a handyman to install it, but I must not be the only one in this "the sweat has now reached my butt crack" predicament, because he texted back at 1:30 a.m this morning, saying he is booked up until Monday.
So here I sit, looking like I just got out of hot yoga and it's not even 11 a.m. yet. Does anyone know if you can swim in the Hudson River?
It is HOT in New York City. After a wacky couple of weeks of up and down temperatures which included plenty of cold, jacket-wearing days, it is now in the "you didn't know you could sweat there" range. Yesterday hit 90 (which felt like 93 with the humidity and 103 with all the concrete) and today is going to be the same.
Now don't get me wrong, I love wearing flip-flops, short-shorts and tube tops as much as the next 34-year old who should have given up that dream years ago, but there's a certain kind of hot that even the skimpiest of outfits can't fix: the apartment with no a/c.
Of course, I wasn't expecting our pre-war, 1890 building to have central air, but we don't even have a window unit. I guess in NYC, that's the kind of item you take with you when you leave (along with bed bugs.)
On Thursday before the heat wave, I met Mike at Bed, Bath and Beyond so we could purchase our first window a/c unit. It actually worked pretty well: we bought it and then for an extra $15, the store delivered it the next day. Two very, sweaty men graciously lugged the 67-pound unit up four flights of stairs.
I tried calling a handyman to install it, but I must not be the only one in this "the sweat has now reached my butt crack" predicament, because he texted back at 1:30 a.m this morning, saying he is booked up until Monday.
So here I sit, looking like I just got out of hot yoga and it's not even 11 a.m. yet. Does anyone know if you can swim in the Hudson River?
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