Where The @#!* Was I?

I realize that MySpace.com is 50% helpful and 50% a "gift" from Satan but I still like to check it out now and then. Tonight I saw that there were new alumni from my high school so I searched my graduation year to see who had recently joined. I wasn't sick many days and we didn't have that big of a school so I I have to ask.......why do I remember hardly anyone? I just stare at these people and wonder if maybe there was some home-schooling situation involved and they just kinda showed up at the end of the year to toss on a gown and sit with us. I really took a backseat to things in high school and just kinda let things pass me by. I went to dances, football games because I had to for band and random band functions. I did enjoy what I did in school but I let so much just pass on by. I always chat it up with the kids who work for me and I hear them say how they skip certain school related events. I'm the last person you want to influence your teenager but I do try and encourage them to be more active than I was at their age. I have lots of memories from school but they really all seem to include less than a dozen people. Something tells me that before long I'll be hunting for my yearbook.

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It's been pretty hot the past few days and thankfully I work with a group of people who notice such things. Our kitchen is hot pretty much all the time. When you have half a dozen pieces of equipment all heated to about 400 degrees a piece it'll really make a place toasty. You factor in the summer heat and it feels like you are Satan's personal chef in hell. The other day it reached 130 degrees in front of the grill which is a new record. At that temperature you don't need to be told it's hot but yet everyone in the restaurant LOVES to walk into the kitchen and make a heat related comment. The people who work in my kitchen bitch about the heat far less than the people who are in the air conditioned areas. This weekend the one AC unit was acting up. The thing has 3 fans and only 2 were working. The one side of the dining room is a little toasty and suddenly everyone who has to brave slightly warmer than normal conditions thinks they are some kind of superhero. The heat may make me cranky but it's stupid fucking people who make me irate.