Degrees of Freedom

I came home from a lousy shift at work to discover that our apartment's brand new A/C unit is not functioning.

There is a more than slightly uncomfortable readout of 86°F on our thermostat, and the heat has caused Loopis and I to allow neighborhood voyeurism by opening all the windows and pulling aside the blinds to permit whatever wisp of breeze finds its way into our humble abode.

Tonight I will be forced to sleep naked in bed, on top of the blankets (which will be completely unnecessary), and be eaten alive by a swarm of mosquitoes that find their way in through the rips in the screens or cracks between the window and outer wall.

Tomorrow at school I will be miserable.

It's 87°F now. There is a direct correlation between an increase in temperature and a decrease in my motor activity.

I could try to not think about it, but what's the point?

I will fail at any and all attempts.

Fact about heat/humidity and me: when I become uncomfortably warm or hot in a situation in which I should be able to control my environment's temperature but cannot, I turn into She-Hulk.

Heads will roll tomorrow if maintenance does not return our home to an acceptable 76°F.