No more Mr. Mice guy

I decided to spare you any further mice stories only because it would sound so unbelievable and I don't want you thinking I actually make up stories about killing catching mice.  I got a HUGE kick out of reading your comments, and Meredith, I totally get not wanting to watch it.  If you had listened you would have heard me gagging as she tossed the mouse around.  Honestly, I don't have the heart for killing anything which is why I was so disturbed when forced to do it.  I was just so impressed with my cat--after all these years we have lived together...I have decided she must have developed dementia.  She suddenly wants to sit on my lap and she wants to sleep on me at night.  And now she is killing mice?  That is so not my girl. 

Life is getting crazy busy again at work.  We had the best little team of four at work--we all got along well and enjoyed each other and best of all, we actually worked well together!  Slowly they have left me over the last several weeks and today my mentor left me.  It was hard.  The only thing worse than still feeling like an idiot in my job and having no one to ask questions of is realizing that I will now be responsible for a lot more stuff!  Ack! 

Fortunately my vacation does start in a couple of weeks.  I am so ready for a break.  I'm ready to be away from work for a while, I'm ready to be away from the cold and dreary winter.  I am just ready.  I am not sure that I will be blogging while I am away.  It's not that I don't want to drag you with me on vacation, but I don't own a laptop so unless I borrow Chennie's it probably isn't going to happen.  Of course, I don't know the last time I actually went more than a week without email or internet so who knows?

The house is a pit and my dishes are unwashed and other horrible unmentionables are growing in my kitchen (I know what you are thinking--you think I caused the mice, but you are wrong!).  I admit to feeling more than slightly embarrassed when my mom planned an unscheduled visit this after.  This is what I am most going to love about them living so close--the rush of embarrassment when mom sees how old the dirty dishes stacked on my counter really are.  Of course, they could always buy me a dish washer for Christmas, wink, wink.  Pretty please?!?