My job sucks right now and Party toes

First of all, this picture isn't me, but it could be on any given day. I do the "postal lean" regularly, and let's just say, it's a darn good thing those seat belts are so sturdy!

If you aren't aware, it's been over 100 degrees here in Hotlanta lately. When I go outside to load my truck, it feels like I'm on vacation in Florida, only there's no refreshing beach or pool waiting for me. I'm a sweaty mess by the time I finish loading my truck around 10am. 10AM!! My only source of cool-ish air is a pathetic fan strapped to the dash. I can't even get it to point at me. The ball joint that holds it up is too loose, so the best I can do is sort of point it at my knees which is good because at least it kind of blows away the hot air coming from the heater which won't completely shut off.

My upholstered seat is leaving chaffe marks on the back of my legs. I occasionally feel what I think is sweat dripping down my legs, only to discover that it is actually a bug of some sort. And mail sticks to my sweaty arms and hands. As I put mail in a box, a magazine cover will stick to my arm and then fall on the ground as I pull it out. I do get a little fresh air when I get out to pick it up, but when I get back in the truck, you can almost hear the squish as I get back into my soaking seat.

Fortunately, I get to go home for lunch. Once home, I throw my wet clothes in the dryer and sprawl out under a ceiling fan. My lunches lately consist of ice cream and popsicles.

If one more customer asks if it's hot enough for me, I simply won't be responsible for my actions. I mean...COME. ON. Look at me! My hair is soaking and dripping down my neck. My shirt is stuck to me and my pants look like I had an accident. I'm dirty, cranky, and rushed. The last thing I want to do is talk to people and fake laugh at their really bad jokes. Truly, I'm no fun to be around during working hours.

So....in an effort to remind myself (and Jeff) that I am indeed a girl, I went out for a bit of pampering this evening. Ahhhhh..a massage chair. Foot rub. Sea salt. I wasn't even offended when she asked if I wanted her to work on my calluses. Of course! Jeff did make some comment about requiring a belt sander, but even that couldn't ruin my moment of girly bliss. My feet are soft, my toes are painted and I will be spending the rest of the weekend with my dog...very close to an A/C vent.