Yesterday was the first day that warranted me firing up the air conditioners. The little one in my bedroom took a long time to cool things down, but eventually it did.
It's the one in my livingroom that causes me guilt. This is the big, through the wall unit I'm replacing on Friday. It worked. It's 10 years old, it's been repaired twice, it's louder than an el train and the motor sounds like a death rattle, but it did work. So I feel like a spendthrift and bad steward of the environment for getting rid of it.
Sears is hauling it away for me and they promise to recycle it. So that's good. But still, it feels wasteful.
I must remember that I spent $110 to fix it last spring, and that at that time the repairman only promised it would make it through that summer, not this one. Better, I suppose, to spend the $700 now (on sale, including installation and haul away of the existing unit) than to be stuck without a/c.
I don't do heat.
Here I am, in my mid 50s, and I still hate being a grown up.