I keep my AC on. All. Day. Long.
So lots of heat, hot, humid, hot, muggy, steamy rain, so damn hot talk happens and I let it slip to my friend-type-person that I leave the fan on overnight.
FTP: Wait, you leave it on overnight?
FTP: You don’t use a timer?!
Me: No. Oh, the impending judgement.
He is incredulous. He fears for my electricity bill. Yeah, me too, dude. Me too.
He hasn’t even used his AC yet. It’s 35+°/95+°. I visit people’s homes and even with the AC on, in the coolest room of their house, sweat steadily trickles down impeccably made-up faces. Because they conscientiously turn it on just enough so that glasses don’t fog, babies stay alive and old folks don’t stroke out.
I can’t keep up with the stoicism.
And I can’t confess my 24-hour AC usage.
Does it assuage my guilt that I at least turn it down when I leave for hours on end?
Uh, no- so stupid wasteful American.
Okay, so I might as well confess all of my wasteful habits:
I don’t turn off the faucet when I’m not actively using it, I don’t air-dry my clothes when the weather is that kind of sunny and slightly windy perfect for it; I use my walk-in dryer room instead, I have the TV on mute and play music at the same time, I left all the little knobs and controls to heat the toilet seat, control bidet water pressure etc. on waaay past frigid winter and on maximum, respectively (the kanji that I can’t read did play a part but I’m also that oblivious, therefore unconscientious), I’m pretty sure I use more water than necessary for small loads of laundry because my washing machine still confuses me and I can’t let go of my paper towel habit.
Crap, I have a lot of ecological growth and improvement ahead of me.
And this confession thing doesn’t make me feel better; in fact, it makes me feel slightly worse because I know these habits warrant tsk tsk.
I’m working on it, y’all.
Three words: progress not perfection.