My only day off, right in the middle of dumping off my parts donor car in the driveway, my phone rings.
Stupid me, I answered it.
Of course it is my boss asking me to come in and help a guy for a bit, the guy scheduled called in.
What a fucking surprise, it was ninety fucking three yesterday.
That means it was well over a hundred inside the shop.
He made it sound like it wouldn’t take long but I wound up there seven hours anyway.
My bald head was leaking like a soaker hose all day. I went through a six pack of Gatorade and three bottles of water.
The wife had a BBQ planned and had invited some people over, I missed most of that but got back in time to scarf a couple of warmed over hot dogs.
I was hot tired and grumpy and not really in the mood to be entertaining people.
Now I have to go to work again.
I went out earlier and finally got the cylinder head torqued down on my engine but is is already hotter than a half fucked fox in a forest fire out in the garage so I beat a hasty tactical retreat back in the house to sit in front of the fan before I have to go to work.
Try to stay cool and thanks fer stopping by,, I am still having problems getting this thing to post, this is the second try.
Yeah, ninety three my ass, try a HUNDRED and three. Vancouver broke the record for that day at four in the afternoon.
Couple that with giant furnaces running at work that you can feel the heat radiating off of and a serious lack of air circulation and my guess would be about a hundred and twelve minimum at work yesterday.
No fucking wonder I was having so much fun.