that leaky 'con

of the random things i wanted to blog about today (loo stall loyalty, someone in building management heard my pleas - somehow - for better loo paper, dreaming about shower room espionage just to name a few) i am choosing to blog about that leaky 'con.

well, that leaky aircon, to be precise.


y'see, i use the aircon practically every night these recent months, as it is considered summer even in this hot and watery belt we call the tropics. if it were any more humid and/or warmer we wouldn't need to cook anything anymore - everything'd be steamed and we can all go out with chopsticks.

assuming dumplings grow on trees, of course.


anyhoos.


so each time i turn the 'con on, the machine spontaneously takes it upon itself to start dripping.... onto the thin plastic awning a short distance down from my window. charming.

ever slept with a dripping faucet?


well this is the dripping 'con.

at least with the faucet you can tighten it - with the 'con you turn it off and leave yourself to steep in the murky watery night air that's being flailed to and fro by the ceiling fan - murky watery night air that will inevitably turn hot and then become The Place To Be for MOSSIES.

try sleeping. go on, i dare ya.


having lived here for a while though, i've learnt to turn a deaf ear on that over-eager machine so as to earn myself some shuteye. the thing that gets me though is the fact that it's announcing to whomever in the vicinity that i'm using the 'con. i mean, global warming, hello? i'm concerned that my neighbours would either kaopeh (complain) about my 'con or they get annoyed enough (by the dripping) to mortar it.

well. the latter is, of course, more effective for them and very much preferred by me but would probably bring the police by the swarms to the area... though i wouldn't quite mind as i won't have to deal with it - because i'd very likely be DEAD.


but i digress.

BIGWIGS are in the G8 summit trying to find answers to help slow the apocalypse and here i am - ditsy lil reporter in the tropics sleeping with the trippy drippy aircon on every night. i should be ashamed of myself, but am not because those bigwigs have left carbon footprints big enough to stomp on THAT HOLE IN THE SKY twice over. ish.

so... does that make my using the aircon any less damaging? nope.

does it make me feel better? hell yeah!

those leaders could've used the internet for teleconferences, just like the ones who attended INTERNATIONAL WATER WEEK could have. helloooo big carbie footpriiint! wake up, wake up people! that plane you took with your bodyguards and entourage for the meeting? the bigass convention hall you booked that had to be chilled with industrial heavy-duty 'cons? followed by the plane you're going to take with your bodyguards and entourage back?

do you big guys really understand what you're talking about? because if you don't, i as a mere small fry living in the tropics who absolutely needs the benefits of the aircon (unlike in alaska. though granted, it seems to be the unspoken ambition for public transports and most office blocks in singapore to outdo alaska) will see nothing wrong with turning the 'con on every night for months in a row. until the rainy season sets in, at least.

even then i'd still have a smaller carbon output than you do. and believe me, if i could blow you all a raspberry right now i would. then i'd burp in your faces.



'hem. -cough-

i wonder how a leaky 'con has made me angry enough to rant about the environment, all of a sudden. yeah, it's a gift i've always had. i'm sure you've your own talents too; there's no need to get jealous.

and now i shall... go ignore the trippy drippy 'con. goodnight, good people.