Sick of making do, getting by

It's hot this weekend. Really, really hot this weekend. I hate the heat. So I was going to spend a relaxing weekend at home, in the AC, glad that I don't have to be outdoors any longer than absolutely necessary.

The AC in my bedroom is in its death throes. The thing is so loud, and right now it's 86º in there. Hopefully once the relentless sun goes down, it will cool down to 80º. I went to the local appliance store and spent just under $300 for a new one, which should be installed this coming Friday -- six days from now -- if I can get the time off work. In the meantime, I'm living in my now aptly named living room, which is cool and comfortable, except for the fact that my fully-functioning through-the-wall AC sets off the circuit breaker every few minutes.

Mailed my mortgage payment this morning. Life is not supposed to be this way. Being a homeowner was supposed to free me from the tyranny of lazy landlords, to allow me live like an adult, to enjoy my alone time in comfortable surroundings. So far this summer, I've gone more than a week without a refrigerator, living out of a styrofoam cooler on my kitchen counter. Just got the new refrigeratortaken care of, and now the bedroom AC underperforms. The roof leaks, damaging my carpet. My bathroom is a 1950s pink Pepto Bismol nightmare. My kitchen counters look like something Jane Jetson would have chosen. I have plans for the bathroom and the kitchen, but every time there's an AC or a refrigerator snafu, those bigger projects move further into the distance.

Right now I'm discouraged. And sad. And overheated.