Post #3,527 on why I hate living here

You've GOT to be freaking kidding me. The blower on our large unit (teehee, I said "unit") has been out for who knows how long. I've tried to tell my genius husband that, "Hey, it's really hot in here" only to hear, "You think it's hot in here, go outside!" Yeah, he's a real riot that one. So, tonight HE said, "Hey, it's really hot in here" and I could have given him the same line he constantly gives me, but I was more original. "Ya think?" I'm all over originality, let me tell you.
So, oblivious man holds his hand up to the vent and....nuthin'. He goes all around the downstairs and it's all the same. He yells upstairs for Kris to check up there and all is fine. So...that means the smaller air conditioning unit is the only one that's basically cooling the entire humongo house. Fabulous. And here I thought I had some bad-ass fever and was going to die at any moment. We're waiting for the "climate control technician" to call back. First of all, where else in the US can you live where every air-conditioning company works 24/7? Only in the stinkin' desert people. I just want to grab the weenie dogs and go check into a hotel. It's sweltering in here so I'm going to keep this short and go sit in the living room where the huge ceiling fans are blowing gale force winds. I may be a divorcee or a widow by the end of the night. Seriously. I'll complain more about him later.