Window Air Conditioning + Macbeth + Unproductivity

May I recommend

A window air conditioning unit

I am not a summer person. I do not appreciate the tyranny of a large pulsing mass of space energy beating upon my head; making the sweat trickle down my neck; and causing rashes to erupt as as one sweaty body part rubs against another sweaty body part. I don’t like butter turning into greasy liquid on my counter. I don’t appreciate fruit flies in my compost bin. I don’t like waking up with a sweaty pillow after a hot night. I certainly don’t appreciate the enforced sauna that is entering a hot car.

As a thin-skinned, enfreckled redhead with a tendency to sunburn to a shade similar to a freshly boiled lobster, summer is distasteful. I come by this distaste honestly. My ancestors were a Northern European people, a mix of ancient, berserking Scandinavians, generic weak-chinned English and dull-eyed, over-awed Irish peasants. We are a people of low skies, biting North Atlantic squalls and grim, potato-related drudgery enlivened only by the …