The annual ordeal

Well, I knew it was that time again. Time to put the air conditioners in. Last year I did it on June 8th and was very glad I did because the hot, sticky weather hit the following day. This year I was spared the necessity of performing this onerous task until this past weekend, due to the unusually cool weather (highs only in the 60s), with seemingly endless rain, that we've had for the past few weeks (this soggy weather is, by the way, really getting us Mainers down. Enough already.) But on Thursday, the 25th, the temperature soared into the 70s and very high humidity (the true killer) struck; it was even warmer on Friday. Since my little box of a house, with its poor insulation and no shade trees, quickly becomes a sweat box in hot, humid weather, I knew there could be no more procrastinating.

The first problem is getting the two units up from the basement. They are so heavy I'm doing good to wrestle them out of their boxes and up onto a counter (the one that goes in the kitchen window) or onto a trunk (the one that goes in the study window), where I will attach their little accordion side panels; forget carrying them out the basement door, around to and up the back stairs and through the back door to their appointed resting places. In case you are wonder-ing, it is not possible to bring them directly up the interior basement stair because that is too narrow for anything bigger than a bread box.

Last year my landlord's teenaged son carried the boxes up for me, but this year I decided to see if I could take advantage of the accumulation of young manhood living next door to me. The young man who answered the door, and offered his services, is the same one who regularly clears away all the snow on that side of the parking area that goes with that house – even though four to five cars park there, he seems to be the official shoveler – and who has occasionally cleared the snow from behind my car, as well.

After the affable Arlen lugs the a.c.s up for me – impressing upon me, yet again, the dramatic difference in physical strength between even the most whimpy-looking male, and your average female – and after the aforementioned wrestling on my part to get the units de-boxed and up on a surface where I could work on them, the real fun began. Screwing on the side panels. Which had me swearing mightily last year, but seemed to go much more easily this year, at least on the first panel. But then when I'm on screw number two of panel number two it suddenly strikes me that the panel is backwards. Oh, damn! I've put them on the wrong sides!

So I get to unscrew the two screws I'd just screwed, as well as the four screws on the first side panel, and start again. But now I'm struggling and swearing just as I did last year, because I'm fighting the interference of the panel itself, in trying to get the screws in the holes, and get them sufficiently screwed. I keep muttering, 'This makes no sense; it shouldn't be this hard; this makes no sense!'

In exasperation I go looking for the instruction booklet, which I haven't seen in years. Not in my Important Papers folder, or my Helpful Information folder (which includes such things as how to spell shih tzu, which I can never remember, instructions on how to tie a tie, and a sari, and yes, owner's manuals for various items, one of which I no longer even have...but not for the air conditioners). I look and look at the panels, trying to determine which way they really should be facing, bemoaning my utter lack of visualization skills (this is the hole where the screw that attaches to the window frame goes, but will it work better if this side of the hole is against the wood, or that side?)

I finally decide to go with my instincts – it really should not be that difficult to attach the side panels – and I undo the first side panel yet again; put the original one back on, attach the second panel, and throw the damn thing out the window. Well, you know what I mean.