I grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator and downed it in one long guzzle.
I tossed it in the trash can and grimaced when it popped back out and fell on the floor.
I have never been one to have an overflowing trash can, but since Lena had been staying with me, the condition of my house had gone downhill. She was a messy guest who only did a little cleaning up after herself. The last incident with her was when she set the thermostat so low and fell asleep; it felt like walking into a cold room when I got home from work. My first thought was to call the HVAC business to send a cooling technician to my house. Lena chose that moment to walk in and comment on how she must have tampered with the climate control settings. I had had enough of her never-ending chain of annoying events at that point. I called the cooling corporation the previous week to confirm that someone would be home for quality AC service and maintenance. The HVAC contractor was on his way out after ringing the bell for minutes before she turned up. She bombarded him with questions about the cooling unit claiming that she wanted to buy an electric heat pump. The new system would have to incorporate the latest cooling technology because she wanted everything manageable. She made him tell her all about the HVAC brands in the market and told him she would personally call him for the HVAC installation. Her house needed help with indoor comfort, but it had been a month, and she had yet to make any effort toward fixing the cooling equipment. At first, she had told me that she was waiting for feedback from the cooling specialist, only to find out later that she hadn’t even called the local service provider.