Last weekend, my critique group went up to Midway for a writing retreat.
|The Six. Not at the retreat, but I just really like this picture.|
When we got there, we realized the air conditioning wasn't working. If there's one thing I've learned about my writers' group, it's that we can put up with a lot of things... except a broken a/c.
So, as the pioneers of yore would've done, we called all the local repair shops. But since it was a Saturday AND a holiday weekend, we struck out. Although there was one repairman who said he'd come out for $130 an hour.
I'm sorry, I don't have $130 an hour. But it did make me rethink my career choice.
So Bree Despain and I did some investigating.
Did you know there are two parts to an air conditioner? An inside and an outside? Well, the outside part - the air condenser - was vewy vewy quiet. It was clearly not working.
|Not the actual air condenser. I forgot to take pictures.|
To make a long story short (too late) we ripped a chunk of the fusebox out and took it to the hardware store, where I asked the hardware guy to replace all the little parts.
When we got back, we drew straws as to who was going to put the new part in, upon risk of electric shock. I drew the short straw.
Thinking of my safety, I was all, "Do we have rubber gloves anywhere?"
And Bree was all, "Oh yes! I could use those in case I have to pull your charred remains away from the fuse box!"
And I was like, "I meant for me!"
There were no rubber gloves, but I did find a dish rag. And Bree was all, "Excellent! All the better to clean up the bits of Brodi that will surely be scattered about."
To make a long story short, I put the new fuse doohickee in the fuser-mah-thingee and... it worked! And I wasn't electrocuted! And Bree stood there with her towel at the ready, looking disappointed.
I was so excited, I shouted at the top of my lungs, "I am the GODDESS of AIR CONDITIONERS!" That might be the first time anyone has ever screamed that sentence.
The rest of the day was spent recounting the heroic story of "The Day we Saved Air Conditioning" to friends and family and basically anyone who would listen.
We couldn't stop talking about it. It was as if we had actually given birth to the air condenser. We described each labor pain in detail, and every once in a while, one of us would spontaneously shout, "Girl Power!"
I told Sam the story over the phone, and when he didn't show the appropriate level of awe, I handed the phone over to Emily Wing Smith to give her version, and then to Sara Bolton for yet another perspective.
Trust me, the next time I tell Sam about my awesomeness, he will be appropriately amazed.
How about you? Have you ever had a moment of triumph like this? I felt like I could do anything. ANYTHING, I tell you!
Next, I'm going to build a car, using only a gum wrapper and belly button lint.