Visio Visions and Five AM Regulars

My boss decided a few weeks ago that all of the network documentation for the school system needs to be updated. It didn't sound like a huge task until I looked at the existing documentation and realized that it was last updated when we were still using cups and string to communicate. So I've spend the last few weeks doing an inventory of all the network equipment in my zone. I support 18 schools, so I've worked my way in and around dusty closets, stuck my head in numerous ceilings and peered at microscopic serial numbers on over 200 routers and switches.

The worst part, though, is doing the diagrams. I'm not a huge fan of Visio anyway, and the fact that I'm seeing the damn diagrams in my sleep now is not helping my mood.

Speaking of sleep (or lack thereof), I was up and on the lifeguard stand at 5 this morning. As I sat in a semi-stupor, watching the old folks drift back and forth in the pool, it occurred to me that I don't really know many of them by name. Or at least by their real names. Most of them are regulars, and I had almost unconsciously assigned them names in my head to keep track of them while they're swimming.

First, there's Darth Vader. Darth hits the pool at 5:01, sets his watch and sidestrokes until exactly 5:46. He always swims sidestroke, and he always swims on his right side. No switching. Ever. Darth is so named because of his loud and wheezing breathing pattern, which actually puts the real Vader to shame. The decibel level in the pool area drops by at least half at 5:47. Darth also goes into a towering Dark Side rage if anyone else attempts to swim in "his" lane.

Then there's Fred. He looks just like Fred Flintstone, and at 5 AM, he's just about as articulate as a Neanderthal. I've never heard him speak. He just grunts. Fred also has an unvarying routine - he enters the pool about 1 minute later than Darth and proceeds to kick on his back for the odd lengths and do some sort of hybrid breaststoke for the even lengths. He never stays in more than 20 minutes.

Flounder is my nemesis. Flounder is about 75. He starts his morning routine with a brisk walk around the deck, swinging his arms in wide circles. He gives me dirty looks if my lifeguard duties cause me to cross his path. He was put out with my this morning because I was removing the vacuum cleaner from the pool and he had to veer around me. Flounder's favorite lane is the one right next to the lifeguard stand, where he flails and splashed from one end of the pool to the other, completely soaking everything (including me) along that side of the pool. Fortunately, because he is a very inefficient swimmer, he tires quickly and leaves the pool after about 15 minutes.

Last but not least are the Gossip Girls. The Gossip Girls are in their late 30's. They come in together, get their kickboards and fins, then proceed to kick side-by-side for an hour and talk. They never get their hair wet. They never stop talking. As a matter of fact, they were still talking in the locker room this morning when I finished my shift. I can't help but feel sorry for their husbands.

Today was my last day of lifeguarding for a while, as I start coaching the Masters swim team next week. Who knows, I might even miss my regular cast of characters. I doubt they'll miss me. I'm the mean lifeguard who makes them move to a different lane when the swim team comes in to practice.