It's getting hot in herrre
It's only 9:43 a.m. It's already 90 degrees outside. And ... the air conditioning's broken at my work.
The following thoughts keep running through my head:
"Why did I shower this morning?"
"I am SO glad I put on extra deodorant this morning."
"I am SO glad I wore a light shirt that won't show sweat marks."
"How much trouble would I get into if I worked naked?"
"If I DID work naked, would I at least get sent home? TO MY AIR-CONDITIONED APARTMENT?"
I seriously think this falls under the umbrella of "cruel and unusual punishment." It's very, VERY hot in here right now. Naturally, everyone's getting pissy. (Overheard in our morning staff meeting: "Don't ASK me about the air conditioning! Just because I rode up in the elevator with the guy doesn't mean I KNOW anything!!" "WELL. Now we all know who gets bitchy when it's over 90 degrees." Someone else, under their breath: "Try under 90, too.")
I much prefer this approach: After the meeting, I went to get a spoon for my morning chocolate raspberry mousse yogurt. Another guy I work with was in the kitchen.
Him: How's it going?
Me: I'm HOT!
Him: Yeah, we know. You don't have to brag about it.
* * * * *
Update: The air is back on (yay!). They brought us ice cream. And I'm no longer hot.