We both know what you wish I was, you jerk.

Yeah, you look great. No, I swear. That layer of sweat makes you look fantastic. It really highlights your pale, clammy, I-spent-the-summer-completely-indoors skin. 

Oh, God, okay. Here we go. Don’t turn this on me. You wanna switch places? You wanna try being a box fan who’s 10 years past her prime? You know what—be my guest. When your older brother graduated, I thought I was headed for the sweet release of a peaceful basement corner. But I forgot about the younger sibling. Of course I did. 

At this point, I’d take a Goodwill donation box over this ridiculous windowsill. It’s three inches wide, you asshole. I’m a box fan, not Bella Hadid. You couldn’t spare a decent surface for my tired, plastic bones, but you managed to fit four succulents on your desk? Who do you think you are? The Sahara desert? And they’re already half-dead, by the way. How about you just finish the job, and get me off this glorified tightrope.

Also, while we’re on the subject, I heard what you said the other day when you thought I wasn’t listening. You and your roommate were bitching about how much you miss A/C. Like I wasn’t right there. You poor, poor babies. Do you have to wear shorts? Do you have to sleep on top of your duvet? Are you a little sweaty? Are you a little uncomfortable?  I’ve been on setting five since you moved in, and I’ve got dust in crevices you haven’t even heard of. I’m uncomfortable, bitch. 

I’m spinning around like a maniac, clinging to a windowsill the size of a pinky finger, and you know what? I’ll never be A/C! I can’t help who I am! I’m a Bed, Bath, and Beyond box fan and I’m not getting any younger! 

And you! Know! What! If you put me on setting five for 72 hours straight, I’m gonna make some noise! I’m so sorry you can’t sleep because I “sound like rocks in a washing machine,” but if you need A/C so badly, maybe you should move to Antarctica. I heard it’s pretty chilly, and if you hurry, the ice caps might still be there when you arrive. 

Yeah, I said it. You know what I am? A box fan. You know what I am not? Responsible for global warming. Only one of us is in college. And I’m sure you’re gonna create some serious social change with your English degree, but have you thought of, oh, I don’t know, Environmental Science? You certainly seem concerned about your environment to me. Maybe instead of griping about how ineffective I am, you build a solar panel or pick up some litter or kiss a turtle on the nose or whatever. How about you get off your bed, leave me alone, and do something about the fact that it’s 90 degrees in September. Or move somewhere with A/C and put us both out of our misery. 

Fed up box fan via Bwog Staff