I can't stand this heat. It has been over 100 degrees every day for most of the past week. I could bear this still, sticky, unrelenting air a little better if our poor old central air conditioner hadn't picked this week to go belly up. Now the house heats rapidly during the day, rising to the upper 90s by late afternoon; at night it doesn't really cool off.
Last night I couldn't take it anymore. It was still over 90 degrees in the house at 8 p.m. and I just had to get some more windows open, even if the air outside wasn't much cooler. Sean and I dug around in the garage and found a few screens that had been missing from the windows we wanted to open. (Why they were in the garage at all is a mystery to me -- I think we must have taken them down when we repainted the house a couple of years ago and not replaced the ones on the windows we don't usually open.) I managed to screen and then open two additional windows in the kitchen. When I tried to open a third, one located next to the computer, it wouldn't budge. I strained and strained, but it wasn't going anywhere; because of the computer desk under the window, I couldn't get right under the window and give it a proper shove.
A reasonable person would have said, "Aw, screw it," and walked away. But I was taken over by some kind of heat-induced rage and I decided I wasn't going to let some flimsy contraption of wood and glass best me. I balled up my right hand into a fist to use as a mallet and gave the window frame a good whack.
Yeah, you guessed it. I managed to punch a gaping hole in the window. Glass flew out and tinkled on the windowsill and into the planting bed below. I yelled "Shit!" so loudly that not only did Curtis come running from the den to see what was wrong, but the neighbors' grandkids in the pool next door momentarily stopped their screaming and splashing. The side of my hand was covered with about a dozen small cuts, some of which were bleeding freely; one of them looks like it might even leave a little scar. I had to use tweezers and a sterilized sewing needle to dig a minute chunk of glass out of my pinkie.
This awful heat is supposed to break by Wednesday. My own feverish brain seems to have snapped back into normal range when the glass broke. I retreated to the den and spent the rest of the evening watching Flip This House in a sweaty stupor. It's a bad idea to leave a broken window unattended to, but I may postpone repairing it until the mercury dips back into the 90s.
Last night I couldn't take it anymore. It was still over 90 degrees in the house at 8 p.m. and I just had to get some more windows open, even if the air outside wasn't much cooler. Sean and I dug around in the garage and found a few screens that had been missing from the windows we wanted to open. (Why they were in the garage at all is a mystery to me -- I think we must have taken them down when we repainted the house a couple of years ago and not replaced the ones on the windows we don't usually open.) I managed to screen and then open two additional windows in the kitchen. When I tried to open a third, one located next to the computer, it wouldn't budge. I strained and strained, but it wasn't going anywhere; because of the computer desk under the window, I couldn't get right under the window and give it a proper shove.
A reasonable person would have said, "Aw, screw it," and walked away. But I was taken over by some kind of heat-induced rage and I decided I wasn't going to let some flimsy contraption of wood and glass best me. I balled up my right hand into a fist to use as a mallet and gave the window frame a good whack.
Yeah, you guessed it. I managed to punch a gaping hole in the window. Glass flew out and tinkled on the windowsill and into the planting bed below. I yelled "Shit!" so loudly that not only did Curtis come running from the den to see what was wrong, but the neighbors' grandkids in the pool next door momentarily stopped their screaming and splashing. The side of my hand was covered with about a dozen small cuts, some of which were bleeding freely; one of them looks like it might even leave a little scar. I had to use tweezers and a sterilized sewing needle to dig a minute chunk of glass out of my pinkie.
This awful heat is supposed to break by Wednesday. My own feverish brain seems to have snapped back into normal range when the glass broke. I retreated to the den and spent the rest of the evening watching Flip This House in a sweaty stupor. It's a bad idea to leave a broken window unattended to, but I may postpone repairing it until the mercury dips back into the 90s.
3 comments:
I'm so sorry you hurt your hand. I completely understand the rage you describe, though. I've made similar mistakes. I know my reaction would have been "Shit!", then "OWW!" then "Well, at least there's some fresh air in here." It's not reasonable but it's how I would have reacted.
Let's take a screwdriver to that evil window and get it open. That could be the world's nicest nook with that big window open. But no more fists please.
Take care!!!
OUCH!
Sorry about the heat. Our weather seems to be the exception nationally -- just lovely at the moment. Perhaps you should investigate the price of a Jet Blue round trip fare?
Linda
I've done nothing but rant and rave for the past week, cursing this damn heat and humidity. I would have whacked that window right along with you had I been there...and had some choice expletives to add myself. Hang in there and pray that relief comes quickly!
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