Honey in Your Hips

Well, it's over. Finally. Over the period of what would have been slightly prematurely birthed pregnancy, I worked at a pizza place. Highlights of my last week on the job:

1. Having 10 kids come in whose balls hadn't even dropped yet and all had credit cards and didn't tip.
2. Walking into the kitchen and to see a large lamb carcass, which the cooks continued to butcher for about 5 hours.
3. Hearing two prim ladies discuss the difference between Charles Barkley and Gnarles Barkley.
   

8 months of interacting with the spoiled, the schizophrenic, and the cool -- pizza being the thing that brings us all together -- is over. Now school starts, and I'm taking about double the courseload and teaching a bunch of kids all by myself how to write and shit. God help me (and them).