This is the part where I wish I could say that this past weekend started off swimmingly.
That would be a lie.
The pool at the apartment complex where I live was set to open Saturday morning, and I had grand plans to spend three solid days in the water. I even bought a fresh tube of sunblock and a new towel. The only thing missing was my pool pass, and I decided to stop by the leasing office after work on Friday to get it.
I filled out the form, reapplied my lip gloss, and smiled for my OFFICIAL POOL PASS 2012 PHOTO. The woman in the office handed me a sheet of pool rules and said, "Alrighty, passes take one week to be processed, so stop by next Friday."
Well. You could say that news put a bit of a ripple in my plans for a long awaited poolside weekend.
As soon as I got back to my apartment I checked the flyer we had been sent early in May outlining all important pool-related information, and sure enough in bold letters it said, "POOL PASSES TAKE ONE WEEK TO BE PROCESSED. WE SUGGEST COMING IN AS SOON AS POSSIBLE."
And that is why you should read your mail. And also why I didn't swim this weekend.
Since I found myself with an unexpected WIDE OPEN Saturday afternoon, I decided to go to my parents' house because THEY LOVE IT WHEN I DROP BY. It turned out that there was some manual labor going on, and by that I mean they were working on a pond and needed to wash, move, and arrange several TONS of rocks.
Two years ago my parents got a new roof, siding, windows, a fence, and a deck. The whole shebang. And then we would sit on the new deck and my mom would say, "The one thing that would make this perfect is a pond," and my dad would say, "Well, we're not getting a pond."
I don't know what changed exactly, but Houston, we have a pond.
Actually what we have is a small lake, complete with two waterfalls and native Pennsylvania fish that my dad caught. And my parents did this entire thing themselves!!! I think they should have just added some concrete and called it a pool!
That evening Matt came over to my apartment before we went out to dinner, and as soon as he walked into my bedroom he said, "Oh geez - turn your air conditioner off - don't you smell that?!" It turns out that the mysterious strange smell I had been noticing all week actually signified a problem with my air conditioner, and after Matt removed the cover and inspected the interior I knew I would be paying my friends at the apartment office a visit once again.
They love me there.
Unfortunately since it was a holiday weekend not much could be done right away, and it just so happened that the meteorologists were making a VERY BIG deal out of an excessive heat watch.
Oh, the heat.
It was excessive.
I spent Sunday and Monday nights with the windows open and this little fan blowing recirculated 85 degree air in my face.
It was every bit as refreshing as it sounds.
And the worst part was that I had NO ACCESS TO THE POOL IN WHICH I COULD COOL OFF.
It was worth it in the end though, because when I came home from work yesterday I found a brand spankin' new air conditioner, COMPLETE WITH A REMOTE CONTROL.
I HAVE DIED AND GONE TO HEAVEN.
It's been a long time since I felt as fancy as I did last night when I adjusted the temperature of my room while I lounged in bed.
The only thing that would make me feel fancier is if I could get the apartment management to build me a pond a la my parents' outside our front door.
I'll work on it. Rome wasn't built in a day.