Natasha Fondren

Right after Glenn left, the Wednesday before last, my phone stopped working. I could hear people talk, but they couldn’t hear me. Luckily I had equipment protection, so they gave me a brand, shiny new one, free and clear.

That was nice. And it relates to the wonderful day I had on Friday.

I got up early, excited to buy an air conditioner. My cat broke my favorite (and only) real-glass glass, but I was too excited to care.

I’d been forgetting to put our new plates on. That was bad. I was told this could negate my insurance, should I get into an accident, and that if I got pulled over, they could impound the car.

Those might have been exaggerations to inspire me to finally put the plates on the car. Which I did.

While I was wrangling with the rusted screws, Sprint Customer Survey called me for the fiftieth time to ask how my service was when I replaced my phone. (See? I told you it related!) I’d tried ignoring their rings, as you all know I only talk to my best friend, my niece and Glenn on the phone. But if I wanted them to stop calling me, it was clear the only way would be to accept the phone call.

So I grabbed my phone from the Jeep and replaced the license plates as I took the survey. I have short patience for these things, so after five questions I hung up and put the phone on the taillight while I worked a really tough screw.

Ohio license plates are made of metal, but South Dakota license plates, the new ones, are made of this bendy-plastic. Cheap, but shinier. Didn’t like, though.

Then I went to get my AC. $50 off! Woo-hoo! It’s portable, because that’s all that will work with our setup.

When I came home again, (two hours later because it’s 40 miles away) I realized I didn’t have my phone.

Yeah.

The taillight.

Not still there.

Go figure.

I installed and turned on my AC, then hit the road to retrace my steps to find my lost phone. I was shocked that I actually did find it. It was in the middle of the road, overheated in the sun, run over and warped.

It won’t close, now that it’s warped:

And you can totally tell it was run over several times and ground into the gravel road:

But it works!

So I drove on to find a health food store in Tucson that has all the fixings for the macrobiotic diet I did pre-Glenn. I’m trying to get the body here in shape for “The Back-up Plan,” so I need to avoid all the foods I’m allergic to, which is basically all the yummy food in the whole world.

By that time, it was mid-afternoon and 100 degrees out. I was soooooo happy to get home to my camper with AC.

Except my camper was 100 degrees, too. I futzed and sorta fixed it. By the time it finally cooled the camper down to 78 degrees, it was 80 degrees outside.

I was hot and bothered, and not in a good way.

Didn’t my dinner look great, though?

Um, yeah. If you mention ice cream, I’m not sure I’ll be able to forgive you.

I was glad to call it a day. As I was getting changed into my nightgown—would you believe it?—I stepped on a glass shard I’d missed that morning. Couldn’t get it out. Couldn’t find my tweezers. Had to hop to a neighboring RV to borrow tweezers. After bleeding and crying and soaking and pulling and tweezing for thirty minutes, I got it out and successfully made it to bed. (About the only successful thing I did that day.)

So what do you think? Don’t you think it’s Sprint’s fault that my phone is broken again? If they hadn’t been spamming me with phone calls I never asked for, I wouldn’t be in this situation!

And how was your weekend? Don’t you think it’s so weird to say, “Happy Memorial Day!”? How about “An Honorable Memorial Day!” instead?

(Something I do so often, I now sigh inwardly when I hear myself say something, resigned that the words will later be stuffed down my throat.)

It’s hot, here. Remember how I’ve been saying that it only gets hot for a few hours in the afternoon and cold at night so there’s no point in me getting an air conditioner?

Yeah, no.

I about died today, it was so hot. I jumped in the pool, but long story short, it was too freezing to stay in, even though I was boiling hot. So in my wet swimsuit, I sprawled in my bed, poured a glass of water on myself, and sat there comatose.

(Don’t worry about all that water in my bed. It evaporated in ten minutes.)

I’d read about homemade air conditioners, but I didn’t have the copper tubing. So I did this:

Oh? Those black blobs? I was too hot to redd up the camper, so I cleaned it with black paint in Gimp, to make you think my countertop was all clean and organized and I didn’t have clothes hanging all clutterly from a hook over the window.

The ice water stayed cold for several hours, surprisingly, and it did actually cool it down about fifteen degrees, I believe. Down to where I could think again, at least.

It didn’t help that I’d been in the sun for eight hours, driving with the top off the Jeep and hiking in the desert. It was 100. 100!

My cats, shall we say, were not at all pleased:

The other two were hidden somewhere, away from the heat.

So I called Mr. Moneymaker.

He reminded me that I’d said it was only a few hours of unbearable every day, and that I’d said I loved the heat, that it was no problem.

I said f*ck that.

So this afternoon I’m buying an AC. This camper will be a nice 68 degrees. Maybe 65 degrees. Maybe 60 degrees. I’m so hot, I want to be an ice cube.

I’m hoping the cool air will increase my productivity, which has been extremely sluggish. And I have to eat my words one more time, because I am DYING for three days of rain and cloudy skies and thunderstorms.

No rain until the monsoons in July, I hear.

Are you staying cool? I heard there was a hot spell out east, too!