Xander ,'End of Days'
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
First of all, {{{Sox and fam}}}
I suspect that your boss's response was meant as "take all the time you need and don't feel like you need to be at work right up to the service", rather than unsympathetic -- but I can definitely see how it comes off wrong.
So, again, {{{Sox}}}
amych is right, I think. Take your boss' comment as an invitation to re-prioritize, Sox. Put down the stressy work stuff. Eat a cupcake.
Hey, guys, remember that time there was a mouse in my kitchen last year?
{{{Sox}}} I think amych and Sparky have the right of it.
remember that time there was a mouse in my kitchen last year?
Heh. I love that you put on rat music before the removal....
P-C, you handled that FAR batter than I would have.
I would have had a stroke and collapsed.
Sox, I'm so sorry. And yes, amych and Sparky are probably right.
I know that at some point I need to realise that dressing to entertain six year olds is NOT the way to go; that one can, indeed, have too many sequins, that ruby slippers are not the norm, and that using chocolate perfume is not neccesarily the most grown up of choices.
Fay! Have I taught you nothing? I'm wearing (among other things) black glittery shoes and a top hat with pink and black roses. AND perfume that smells like chocolate and cupcakes. Dress to entertain yourself and the six year olds.
{{{Sox&DH}}}
I love that you put on rat music before the removal....
It really, really helped. It's hard to do something like that in complete silence!
P-C, you handled that FAR batter than I would have.
I would have had a stroke and collapsed.
Well, I was lucky I had a friend there. I don't know how well I would have handled it had I been alone. I mean, a dead rat is certainly less of a problem than a live one, but I still would have been at a loss.
When I was a kid, our old house had a room we called the attic (even though it was just an unused room on the second floor). The attic had a single light in it that hung from ceiling in the middle of the room, and the only switch was on the light itself. So at night to turn the light on I'd just walk forward in complete darkness swinging my arms back and forth in front of me until I found the light.
One time I did this and turned on the light to find a rat the size of a cat staring at me five feet away. Then it slowly turned and walked away.
When we tore down that old house, my mom said she wanted to stay home from work that day to watch the rats flee.