Huff, Huff, Huff, Huff … GASP! Gurgle …

Our plant elevator has been down for three days, necessitating the use of the stairwell if I want to, you know, get paid for working and all.

So for the past three days I, along with all my 5th floor peers, have been hoofing it up 87 steps (we count, every time, hoping we're somehow mistaken) in a 90 degree stairwell with oh-I-don’t-know 9000ppm CO2, in order to take in the breathtaking vista of a lobby filled with sweaty gasping fat people strewn along the walls or collapsed in the limited seating (the only reason we even pretend to rush up the stairs is the faint hope we'll be one of the few who gets to sit down during this phase), before we have recovered enough to walk down the hallway and into our various offices, where we further convalesce, mopping our sodden brows and slaking the thirst of the truly unfit after minimum exercise.

That climb? Killer. Not so bad in cool weather; I just make sure I breathe through it. In the hot-n-muggies, though? Erk! Not fun. Dad, picture me the day you and I climbed the tower in P-Town, and snicker.

And today was our monthly potluck, which was a breakfast this time 'round, so the 3rd shifters could participate. Breakfast was at 6am … which meant I needed to leave home by 5am … which meant I needed to get up by 4am. Sheesh. All you who know my sleep habits (I believe Duke accused me just days ago of sleeping “like a teen”) have an idea how very much I enjoyed that. I do not joke when I tell you that when the alarm blasted off I actually levitated out of bed, practically yodeling “Where’s the truck?!?!” because I was sure the loud, obnoxious beeping was a huge truck getting ready to back over me.

It wouldn’t have been so bad, had I gotten the full night’s sleep I planned ... but.

• But I am hopelessly behind schedule and did not have the ingredients.
• But I had company last night so couldn’t get to the store until after 8pm.
• But I got further sidetracked and didn’t start to make my contribution until close to 10pm.
• But my neighbors must’ve had today off, because they were hanging out on their deck, listening to loud base-thumping music until the authorities officially shut them down after 1am.
• But I can't sleep when I can feel the ever-changing base vibrating through the bones of my home … thump-THUMP-thumpthump, thump-THUMP-thumpthump … and, just when I get used to that, the song changes, so now it’s thumpitythumpthump-THUMP-THUMP, thumpitythumpthump-THUMP!
• But I refused to call the police because it wasn’t so long ago that our crew did the same from Jules ‘n Mario’s deck to their neighbors, so I kind of have to take it when it decides to “come around”, you know?
• But I only got about three hours sleep all night.
• But I did remember to take my breakfast contribution out of the fridge and bake it while I was getting ready for work, so “yay, me!”

Anyway, I brought the Stuffed French Toast that Kim served us Super Bowl weekend, and it was a huge hit. Of course, arriving at the surface of the sun … er, plant … thisclose to 6am (breakfsat time!) and anticipating the upcoming charge of the Light Brigade up 87 steps in the furnace … er, stairwell … while lugging what felt like 6 lbs of hot!hot!hot! stoneware at the bottom, fuhgeddabowd how much it would weigh by the time I got to the top … I totally girlied-out and schlepped my packages into the Maintenance Shop so the guys could see my pathetic-ed-ness and help me out. Which they did, because they’re p’awesome!

It was, as usual, a great turnout … the 3rd shifters were so grateful to finally be included in a potluck (yes, shamed to admit we’ve had about five potluck lunches this year without even considering the 3rd shift), that we’ve decided to rotate the potlucks between breakfast (6am), lunch, (11am), and supper (6pm) from now on. Everyone is happy now.

Aside from my SFT today’s dishes also included two breakfast casseroles (egg, sausage, cheese, potato, green pepper), biscuits & gravy (this has got to be the single most disgusting breakfast food ever), fruit (blueberries, pineapples, strawberries, kiwis, cantaloupes, and bananas), doughnuts, scrambled eggs, blueberry muffins, o.j., milk, coffee, and a variety of cereals. Breakfast rocked!

So, back to the elevator, or lack thereof … all this has brought home the realization that I have got to start exercising. But I don't like it! I find all number of reasons not to exercise … at least, I can't get myself to do it … and I have a treadmill and a stationary bike! So I’ve enlisted my girlfriends today, and with dedication we will do it. Hunh.

For those of you who wonder about the absolutely fabu stuffed French toast Kim fed us, here’s the recipe (I wish I had taken pictures, but I was literally stumbling out the door this morning, and in too much of a rush cobbling it together last night to spare a mo):

Stuffed French Toast

• Grease 13x9” baking dish.
• Cut 1 lb. loaf of firm white sandwich bread into cubes.
• Spread half the bread in prepared pan.
• Cut 1 package (8oz) cream cheese into small cubes and sprinkle half over bread in pan.
• Repeat layering with remaining bread and cream cheese.
• Whisk 12 large eggs; 1 ½ cups of milk; and 1/3 cup of maple syrup together.
• Pour mixture over bread.
• Cover and refrigerate over night.
• Preheat oven to 350.
• Bake covered 30-40 minutes; or until knife inserted in center comes out clean (I used a stone pan, and it took 55 minutes).