In an effort to finally rid myself of this cold, I’m trying out the theory that the constant entering and exiting of air conditioning is what’s made it so bad. Consequently, I’ve left my air conditioner on fan mode.

This isn’t anything terribly revolutionary, but it’s been a bit warmer than usual here and it’s now about 79 degrees in my apartment at 10:30 PM. Normally I try to keep it at 76, and I don’t think I realized what a difference those three degrees made in terms of comfort.

I knew it was hot in here when I got back from the (even hotter) gym yesterday and Chaplin walked up to me, then flopped over in this position:

for about half an hour. This from a cat who is apparently physically incapable of sitting still for 2 minutes when he’s awake. In his defense, it must be hot wearing a fur coat in this weather.

On the upside, between the heat and my lack of recent drinking, I’ve got a very nice buzz going off of approximately half a beer.

The building where our offices are located is basically a ghost town on the weekends, and in order to save money and energy, the folks here have elected to keep the air conditioning off.

This building was built in either the late 50’s or early 60’s, so the idea that each suite can control its own air conditioning is laughable. Everything has to go through Engineering, and they have very limited to nonexistent hours on the weekend.

Now we’ve tried to explain to them “No, there really will be people working, so please turn the A/C on” for the last several weekends, to very limited avail.

We’re only planning on being here for a few hours today, but it’s 9:30 in the morning and it’s already quite hot in here. This will be a real fun and drowsiness-inducing few hours.

The thing that really kills me about them killing the A/C is that none of the offices, at least in our suite, have light switches. So the big, annoying, fluorescent lights that just suck down energy are on 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, whether anyone’s here or not.

Way to be energy-efficient, guys.

I love my apartment, but being here all the time points out to me with a flashing neon sign its one very glaring flaw: It’s fucking hotter than hell in here.

I live on the second floor of my building. There’s very little shade, the airflow is poor, heat rises from downstairs, and when the marine layer burns off, the sun just flat-out bakes my apartment.

Consequently, even though most of my windows are open and I have 2 fans going and it’s 62 degrees outside right now, it’s still over 75 degrees in here. It was over 80 this afternoon.

When I run my window unit a/c, which I try to do minimally, it creaks and sadly fights to keep the place under 75.

There’s an apartment that might be coming open downstairs, a little more money but it’s already remodeled and it has a small patio.

I’d been considering moving down because of the foot, but right now I’m thinking I might melt before the foot gets better if I don’t move.

Outside my office is the New York Street set at Fox, and a progression of shows have been turning the street into a winter wonderland for various Christmas episodes. It’s amusing, though it’s very weird that it’s been going on since October.

What’s probably the final one was out there shooting today, and I guess they had a lot of spare money sitting in their budget. They rented an ice truck and a big snowmaking machine and covered the entire outdoor set in real(ish) snow.

The only problem? Today’s high: 77 degrees.

I felt so bad for the poor extras who were dressed like they were in freezing weather. They must have lost five pounds each just from sweating.

Here’s why I’m never leaving Southern California: It was 94 here today. Today, November 11 7th! 94!

Too bad the Santa Anas are supposed to die down tonight and it’ll be back the downright chilly high 60’s.

God bless you, Global Warming.