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.

Where's Walt?