Generally, I like warm weather. Especially if I'm looking at a beautiful sea that I can jump into or sitting by a sparkling pool that I can jump into or at least drinking something icy made in a blender that I can... well, drink. But it is August in April here in DC and I am shvitzing with the best of them. 95 degrees and no beach and no pool and drinks go from frosty to tepid in one sip.
And, still, I'd tough it out because I've always said I like warm weather--ask anybody-- IF it wasn't for the fact that my car's air conditioner has decided it no longer feels a need to be cool. It's embracing it's uncoolness. Stubbornly. It is the Steve Urkel of air conditioners.
So, it is now at the mechanic's because I will not have one more of these encounters:
Me, switching it on (hey, I do my part): Come on, be cool.
AC: Who's your favorite ST:TNG character?
Me: Shhh, just be cool.
AC: Once I dreamed I met Marvin Hamlisch.
Me: You're blowing it. You are so not cool!
AC: I don't think our parents would approve of the way you're dressed.