Last night I finally made the call to my landlord, the one where I basically tell him I'm planning to move if he has no plans to ever put air conditioning in my flat. The conversation went something like this:
Me: I'm trying to make some future plans, and while I don't need to know right this instant, I do need to know fairly soon if you ever plan on having central air put in down here.
Him: Yah, well, we actually had a guy out here yesterday.
Me: (internally) ???!!!!!
Let's not get ahead of ourselves here. He didn't call someone to come and give him an estimate for air for my flat because I'm the perfect tenant - paid my rent on time for almost eighteen years, never have wild parties and destroy the place, keep the walls and woodwork in good condition and help out with the snow shovelling even though I was told I shouldn't - no, he called and had someone come out because their own air conditioning had stopped working, and his wife and daughter were whining.
(There may be some smidgen of truth to the rumor that a certain person has been actively wishing/hoping for the last three weeks that their air would indeed fail and give them a taste of what that person has been through. There is no truth whatsoever to the rumor that that certain person went out and stuck a large stick in the fan to their a/c compressor, none at all.)
As I predicted, the HVAC guy told him that the furnaces need to be replaced as well. Then I got the song and dance about finding space to put the unit (clue: cut back on the jungle you have in the back yard) and a few other things. He says he's going to get some estimates.
Extremely cautious optimism is the word of the day. I refuse to count chickens until they are plucked and deep frozen...the way things work around here, if it is installed, they'll be testing it on the coldest day of winter.
Until then, I'll just keep packing.
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