Day one:
O mighty Conditiotron, cooler of my house - hallowed be Thy ducts - I beseech thee.
Your breeze has gone absent from our vents, since we have heard the comforting hum of Your song, since You scorned us with Your stilled breath and frozen coils.

I have meditated long before Your thermostat, at the altar of Honeywell. I have contemplated Your many-colored leads, studying the scriptures of R and G for clues to where I have sinned. I undertook the ceremony of Filter Renewal, as I do with faithful regularity. Still, You do not hear my call for cold.

Sweaty and ashamed, I have braved the outside to reach Your temple and there I consulted with a local priest: The diagnostic LED. It offered me no insight, for its allegiance is only to Your sibling god, Furnacitron.

Desperate, I studied Your works with great intensity. Your wiring, Your motors, Your fans and coils. All were in-tact and urged me to keep faith, that you were still willing to perform Your sacred duty... All but the blower fan, whose stoic stillness hindered my path back to 75° fahrenheit.

I approached my workplace superiors to plead for the welfare of Thunder, my canine companion. For now, he has been granted permission to attend my husband and I to the office. This is just about the best thing ever, and everyone loves him very much... but why would You turn Your back on an animal who, by their natural lack of thumbs and their inability to use a calendar, is not expected to uphold the practices of Your Maintenance Schedule?


Day two:
I invoked my ancient and lawful right to DIY. At the local HVAC supply store I purchased my supplies, and went home equipped to conduct the Ritual of Capacitor Replacement... But Your testing of my faith continues. You teased me with ten glorious minutes of cool air before turning a blind eye to my and my thermostat's calls for cooling.

There is a second capacitor to perform the Ritual on, but it is obscure enough that I must order it from Amazon. I pray that I survive two days without Your cool breath upon my home.


Day three:
<<< SWEATING INTENSIFIES >>>


Day four:
The second capacitor has arrived, and I conducted the Ritual once again.

And it still wasn't good enough.

I am ashamed to admit that I wavered in my faith to You, O Conditiotron - hallowed be Thy ducts. I consorted with the minor deities of box fans and ceiling fans. I had to, lest I and my family suffer a terrible, sweaty fate.

I am taunted by the tales of fellow victims of abandonment. They endured much the same trials, yet often quickly solved their problems with the Ritual of Capacitor Replacement... but it is not to be for me? What have I done to be unworthy of Your blessing of climate control in these humid days?

Why do You test me so?


Day five:
There was a third capacitor, stealthily attached to the fan motor in such a way as to be difficult to see from my typical eye level. Was it there all along, or did You, O Conditiotron - Hallowed be thy ducts - conjure it just now to extend my trial of suffering? Is all that awaits me an endless path of spontaneously-appearing capacitors, so many that I might never be able to replace them all? Is the intention to drive me to poverty, $6.00 at a time? Or do You take some perverse pleasure in watching me repeatedly unscrew and rescrew your side panels?

The third capacitor will be Ritually replaced this evening, and I will sweeten the deal with the sacrament of the Cleansing of the Evaporator Coil. I pray that this pennance will be enough to please You... because my husband's faith in You is fading, and I really REALLY don't want to stick my arm back there into that tiny, awkward, blind void to replace Your blower fan assembly.

Please hear my prayer O Conditiotron - cooler of my house, hallowed be Thy ducts, may Thy compressor run forever. Free me from this torment. Let this last capacitor work. Restore my central air conditioning to me.