Cuba Libra

Ummmm thanks baby! 'and a squeeze of lime.

Well here we are, me and my man, living on the edge. He brought me home a mickey of spiced rum and poured me a glass of the stuff.

It's warm outside, and the air is full of blossom scent and fresh cut grass.
Life is good.

Our boss showed up at our door a couple mornings back, with an air-conditioner for our comfort during the coming months. I was very pleased, he chose an all out skinny model, allowing to save much more window than I had anticipated. Lighting is a very big concern for me. I have plants, and a cat with S.A.D. He was very generous.

Personally, I've always hated the things. The mere mention of air conditioning evokes goose bumpy chills and recollections of being forced to peer at blue skies and joyful sea birds during glorious hot summer months over cubicled stalls, through tinted glass office building walls, all the while shuddering under frigid blasts of conditioned air.

Never have I understood the need to blast a room full of icy air when there is perfectly good balmy weather outside, well except for about two weeks in july. However, I've been sufficiently warned to be downright dreadful of the coming months. You see, I sleep directly above the 36 year old boiler. The nights here have been described as being two and three pillow nights, meaning thats how many times I'll need to change my sweat soaked pillow cases.

Ahhh life on the edge.
You try getting a good nights sleep over a 36 year old boiler. Me? I sleep like a baby.