Proportional motivation…

If the last two days are any indication of how the rest of the warm months are going to go, it’s seems like it could be a very long summer. I have a working hypothesis that my level of motivation is directly proportional to the temperature. The further the temperature climbs past 70, the further my motivation to do anything indoors seems to suffer. Of course it doesn’t help that the thermostat in the office seems to be stuck on 80 degrees. Productivity after lunch? Forget it. Between the heat in the building and a full stomach, just managing to stay awake feels a bit like a full time job.

Eventually, I’m sure they’ll get around to switching over to air conditioning in this wonderful new billion dollar building. In the meantime it’s not fit for men nor beasts. If I seem more surly that usual, at least you’ll know why.

Down the shore…

We’re getting into the time of the year when where I really want to be is sitting under a palm tree sucking down rum drinks from little coconut shaped cups. With a house in Tennessee that’s not quite paying for itself and finally getting the costs of a cross country move into the just about paid off range, I’m grudgingly coming to accept that flying somewhere warm and tropical probably isn’t in the cards this year. And that makes me die just a little bit on the inside. I think I’m just having a hard time justifying that kind of vacation while paying someone else for the privilege of living in their house. Maybe my attitude on that will change if I still have a house in Memphis two or three years from now and on indefinitely into the future. I suppose that’s a first world problem and all, but still, I’ll miss my regularly scheduled rum punch marathon.

Since last year’s major vacation involved packing, moving, and unpacking an inordinate number of boxes I’m still determined to manage at least some time sitting on a beach somewhere. Maybe I’ll just pack it up for a long weekend and head to Atlantic City. If I’ve learned nothing else from MTV, it’s that New Jersey is full of tasty adult beverages and people in serious need of mocking. It might just be the best vacation ever.

Air…

You can imagine my surprise when I walked upstairs a few minutes ago and found the temperature hovering somewhere in the low 80s. The A/C was on after all and even though it’s a smallish window unit, it usually doesn’t have any problem cooling the bedroom and office to something approaching a livable temperature. That is, of course, when the condenser coil isn’t frozen solid. Before I rush to judgement and start raising three kinds of hell about it, I’m going to let the thing thaw out and then run some tests to see if it was just me letting it run too long in high humidity we’ve had this week or if it’s something wrong with the unit itself like a freon leak.

Given the upstairs issue, I thought it would be a good time to check the main wall unit in the living room. I almost wish I could have avoided that experience. After dropping the front cover, I have suspicions that this was probably the first time the cover has ever been off the unit. And there’s not one chance in a 1000 that the filter has ever been so much as brushed off, let alone actually cleaned. Any guesses how I spent the last hour of my Sunday night?

I don’t know why something like that would surprise me about this place any more. If they can’t figure out the big maintenance issues, I don’t suppose there’s a prayer of them paying attention to the details. Admittedly, most of my experience with renting has been in apartment communities, but I just don’t remember those having such problematic upkeep and management issues. I hate the thought of moving all tis crap again, but unless there are some radical changes in the way things are done around here, I’ll be looking for new digs in about 10 months.

On the up side, I just sent the owner a $225 bill for having the Expedition towed. That at least gave me a warm fuzzy.