My teachers name that year was Miss. C. She was a little Nazi Garden Nome who umpired our baseball games in high heels and hit us with a yard stick when we allegedly misbehaved. By 3rd grade we were all taller than her so, she seemed less intimidating.
Never-the-less, we were all convinced she was responsible for some kind of wartime atrocity of an educational nature, but lacked the proof to report her to the International Court of Justice in The Hague. I'm sure there is a therapist somewhere who is making a great deal of money off of my past classmates.
I'm turning 38 this year and not looking forward to the inevitable mid life crisis.
I certainly hope that Zombie Apocalypse hits before I start wearing Bermuda shorts, striped Tube Socks with Mesh shoes and explaining to my eldest daughter why I'm hip, we coo, Word!
I know what your thinking but telling a gun owner there will be no Zombie Apocalypse is like telling children there in no Santa Clause..... You Bastards.
I work in the Nuclear Industry as a Radiation Safety Specialist. I love my job and my coworkers are great, when they are on their medication. My job is interesting when things are busy, and an absolute mind knummer when things are slow. It's not that I crave chaos; I just enjoy putting my skill set to work. Since the Iron Curtain fell. Nuclear disarmament; Swords to Plow Shares, Great! No new job prospects there.
I read a really book recently; I never did figure out why the main character loved the "Man in the Yellow Hat", I'm sure it wasn't because of his keen fashion sense. Yellow hat, OK. Yellow Suit, boots and jeep... just too much.
"Don't sweat the petty things - don't pet the sweaty things." ~ George Carlin