It is the little victories in life that are the sweetest.
Since my apartment has literally no ventilation, and Friday was the third day in a row that the temperature reached and stayed in the 90s, I decided to pick up a fan for my room so that I would be able to breath while sleeping.
I brought it home on my way back from the office, and set up shop in my room. Sweating as soon as I stepped into the apartment, the task of assembling a fan seemed daunting, but I soldiered on, knowing that the reward would come in the form of air being blasted into my face.
The fan itself came in more parts than I thought a fan would ever need, and the instructions were all in scrunched, smeared Greek. After fashioning a screwdriver out of my Swiss army knife-esque blades, and only cutting myself twice (including once on my foot…?), I defeated the Ferrara floor fan and forced it into cooperation.
Windy Win.
I took some pictures to commemorate the momentous occasion. Feel free to whoop in celebration.
I knew it…like a dog with its face out the window!
Your Proud Dad read this on Father’s Day… I love your McGyver-esque moves. To paraphrase Jemaine from Flight of the Conchords, “stay cool, aubs, stay cool.”