phooey on central air

It doesn't really seem to work. Perhaps I'm too impatient? Never been accused of that, me. I turned it on yesterday to 73, left the house for a few hours, and returned to an 80-degree house. So, fed up, I lugged the window unit up from the basement and installed it in the living room window--the same window that Belly uses to yell at the new mailman, so that's one good thing. Frustrated.

I called my landlord and prefaced my comments with, "I'm really not the kind of person who calls everyday with a new problem." Of course, he spent a few hours at the house on Sunday fixing the dryer and the stove, but these things happen when a house sits empty for a year, yes? I'm really really hoping the central air can be fixed with a little tinkering from someone who knows what he's doing. I mean, the mailman needs to know who's boss.

Love my new neighbors, Jeanne and Travis. Jeanne is a counselor at ISU, so I can go to her with all my problems, which I'm sure she'll appreciate. And they love Belly, which is important. Love me, love my dog.

Today's agenda: figure out readings for grad course on social class in composition, get tires rotated (any double meaning there, boss?), get brake lights fixed, walk the beast, go to Tuesday night Farmer's market in Normal.

Oh, I almost forgot! Last night I watched Word Wars, a documentary about the world of Scrabble obsession and tournaments. High-larious. It was really a movie Hillary and I should've watched together, but since she's in Massachusetts and I'm in Illinois, all I can do is URGE her to watch it. She can't help but think of me.