9 PM, A/C Dead, Water Pouring: What I Learned About Showing Up
Heat wave. 9 PM. I’m alone in my house when I hear it.
The A/C unit making a sound it shouldn’t make. Then water. Pouring. Not dripping. Pouring.
Towels in one hand, phone in the other. I’m calling the emergency hotline, calling the repair company, calling people who might pick up. On hold. On hold. On hold.
And then I hit the fork in the road—the one nobody talks about because it’s not dramatic enough for Instagram.
Do I go back to bed and pull the covers over my head? Pretend this isn’t happening? Wait for someone to rescue me?
Or do I figure it out.
I opened Claude AI. (Yes, really.)
I asked: How do I shut off the A/C circuit breaker without dying from electrocution?
I learned. I read carefully. No judgment—just “here’s what you need to know.”
I found the breaker. I shut it off. I didn’t die.
Then I grabbed towels, got on my hands and knees, and started cleaning up the water carefully, slowly, making sure I didn’t slip.
And when the panic started creeping in, I did the thing: I put on music. Not meditation tracks or lo-fi beats. Helen Reddy. “I Am Woman.” Full volume. No apology.
I am woman, hear me roar.
I pumped myself up like I was heading into battle.
Because in that moment, alone at 9 PM in a heat wave, cleaning up a flooded A/C unit with a phone in my other hand—that was my battle.
The next morning, the repair person arrived. Looked at what I’d done. Said: “You did a good job cleaning this up. You probably saved us some work.”
That moment—that quiet nod of recognition—was huge.
Not because I fixed the A/C. I didn’t. But because I didn’t hide. I didn’t wait. I didn’t assume I couldn’t do it.
Here’s what I learned:
It’s not Mt. Everest. I know that. It’s a broken A/C unit and some water and a woman alone on a weeknight.
But some days, that is the mountain.
Some days, showing up—messy, scared, unprepared, but still showing up—is everything.
And that’s what trying looks like every single day. Not the big wins. Not the polished moments. This: figuring it out with Claude AI and Helen Reddy at 9 PM because you’re the only one there to do it.
My mom says we’re not robots. We can’t pretend to be. And honestly? After 37 years of trying to have it all, I’m learning that trying isn’t about perfection. It’s about the fork in the road.
And choosing to dig in instead of hide.
P.S. — I’m buying a fan for emergencies. Because now I know: sometimes the victory is survival. Sometimes it’s just showing up. And sometimes it’s a repair person saying “you did a good job.” That counts.
