The A/C is out. The coils are frozen solid according to Walt from Hutzel. Frozen solid because they're low on freon. They're low on freon because there's a leak somewhere. There's a leak somewhere because of a either a bad part in the (only 5-year-old) unit or maybe in one of the welded joints. Anyway, he has to run the heat for a half hour in order to thaw it out. He has to run the heat to thaw the ice. It's 10:27am and it's already 84* with about the same percentage of humidity.
There is a lesson in here somewhere. I'm sure of it. If even just to teach me that God is hysterically ironic.
Walt just announced that he was going outside to have a smoke while the heat runs. Isn't that something? He gets to run outside to enjoy a smoke. Again with the joking around, God. I hate to see what jocularity awaits in the next 45 minutes.
By the way, 63 days without a cigarette as of today. I don't know why I mention this on the random and usually odd numbered days. It's just when something triggers a memory. Which brings me to the point in the story where I'm a flake.
I am a flake. I don't manage a bunch of interruptions, jostling, jockeying, fighting, dirt, mountains of laundry, broken air conditioners and mislaid keys very well. I forget stuff, invariably important things. Like yesterday. No I didn't forget that there WAS a yesterday. I just forgot something important yesterday.
I was supposed to meet a friend with my truck to pick up a piece of furniture. But a bunch of activity happened and I forgot. Henry fell asleep There was a flurry of other things but they're just normal things. But flurry is my middle name. In fact, I should go to McDonalds and order them to name one of those things after me. And then just order one. They're delish.
Oh look, chicken!
That is actually on a magnet that I bought my sister a couple years ago. It actually says "I think I have ADD. Oh Look, a chicken!"
Focusing on one thing for more than 30 seconds causes me great pain because it's impossible for me. This leads me to believe that I may have a touch (read: metric ton) of ADD. I'm going to get professionally tested. It seems to have a genetic component. We'll see what turns up. I scored over 100 on an online metric that goes up to 80 as the highest part of the range. Where are my keys?
I figure it's better to get tested than to beat myself with a stick for being flaky. There's flaky and then there's clinically flaky. I'm clinically flaky because I know I'm not stupid. At least not in the classical sense, anyway.
Anyway, it would explain a lot.
Except where my keys are. And what the hell that chicken is doing over there.