My roommate got the other kind of "muggy" last week when she and two other girls were waiting for a bus in San Telmo. But the guys were kind of amateurs and only got AR$30 from the three of them. And that's AFTER brandishing knives. TOTAL AMATEURS.
The sun has pretty much hidden behind the rain-laden clouds. I sit in my office, listening to the long rolls of thunder and the light falling of rain on the grass and on the bamboo roof that shields my double-sliding door exit to the pool, which is just ten tantalizing feet away.
The wind is still at the moment. Sweat from the moderate temperature and humidity rolls from my scalp, down my forehead, into my eyebrows, into my eyes. From the side, across my ears to fall on my neck. My airconditioner, mounted on the wall to my right, sits unplugged since it trips the breakers in the house when it runs. Everyone in the area is having similar problems of one sort or the other so the air conditioning guys are taking days to make appointments.
I may have to close my doors and windows soon. The rainfall has picked up and if just a little wind adds to things, my office will be invaded with water. I'm sure I'll have to buy another keyboard at that point when the increased amount of sweat falling off of me seeps under the keys and messes up the delicate circuitry.
Even if the wind doesn't pick up, I realize I need to shut the sliding doors. It seems that bamboo poles laid together in a matt and placed as an overhang above a door doesn't really help with rainfall. In fact, it makes things worse. Instead of the lighter raindrops hitting the tiled area outside my office, water gathers from multpile rain droplets on the top of the bamboo, causing larger concentrations of water to fall, more coherently. The effect causes a splash that wets my tiled office floor as much as three feet inside, getting dangerously close to my printer and the powerstrip.
I glance at the inviting pool and sigh. Not only do I wish I could just go take a plunge, but I realize I am hoping that the rain fills the pool another two to three inches so I don't have to spend yet more money topping it off. The pool guy left Tuesday, after having "fixed" a leak that took the pool level down below the filter intake box in less than a day. $1500 pesos to do all the work and another $2000 pesos cost to fill the pool, only to find after two days of filling that the following day the pool level was back down at the bottom of the intake again.
I think briefly about seeing if there are any movies playing at the Village Pilar. That thought is quickly banished as I realize that I don't want to take my car out on the highway, even 15 kilometers or so, in this rain. Indeed, the left front is shimmying lately at speeds over 100 kph. I've been to the Renault dealership 3 times now and they can't seem to take care of the problem, even with over $4500 pesos in new parts and labor.
Instead of taking the car to a movie, I realize that nevertheless I must venture forth into the rain anyway, since I am starting to hear some fairly solid and large-sized pieces of hail striking the ground outside. Just a couple so far, but if I don't move my car under the portico, I can imagine the body damage I'll try to get fixed, with what results anyone can only guess.
DirectTV has lost its signal; at about the time I thought I would go upstairs to my bedroom and relax a little, DTV used the weather as an excuse to take a break. My break therefore preempted.
Maybe I'll go read a book for awhile. I'm afraid that Fate may take the last bit of modern luxury I have left; light powered by electricity. Without light, I won't be able to see enough to read, it's gotten so dark now. I hate reading with a flashlight. My arms get tired.
I figure I'm due for a break. At least rain enough to fill the pool...
Had to put in an update on my previous post, considering its gloomy cast...
The later afternoon sun popped out suddenly, the rain clouds vanishing as if they were never really there; it turned into quite a lovely ending of a day.
The pool attracted me like a magnet as the water began drying up from the yard, creating a more humid climate. My wife was in town, so it was just me, my younger sister-in-law and her cousin. We played Marco Polo until it was too dark to see, then went inside and prepared to go out to eat for dinner.
I felt comfortable enough driving my gimpy car up the highway to Pilar since the night had turned clear and cool, and more importantly, dry. The three of us piled in and stopped by the bus stop on the highway to pick up my wife as she returned from town on the Pilar Express. We high-tailed it out to Siga la Vaca in Pilar for a nice, all-you-can-eat-and-drink parilla for about 50 pesos each.
Now; tired, full and satisfied, the earlier part of the day seems more distant and the day ended on a good note.