A mouse walked out of the kitchen last night while I was on the phone with a client. Stood there, bold as brass. I'm pretty sure he called me a punk.

This evening, I heard the trap I set with almond butter snap. I haven't gone to look. I'm fairly certain no mice were harmed in that little endeavor. They somehow know how to by-pass the mechanism whenever I put a trap out.

Can I just say, I hate this? I would so much prefer to have a conversation with the creatures that brokers some sort of detente where they just don't ever show themselves to me and never force me to deal with either their corpses or their effluent.

I seriously have nothing against their kind. I just. don't. want. to. deal.

I explain to critters that anything that bites is killed indoors. It soothes my conscience.

I also explain that Puppycat really loves to play with and snack on crickets. I'd let them live but she is a harsh kitty and noms them.

Oh lord. I misspoke.

There is, indeed, a corpse in my kitchen. God. I hate this.

It has a little white belly.

I didn't even look long enough to see the head. I can't bear the idea of prying it out of the trap.

I feel awful.

If I thought killing one meant the others would head for greener pastures, I would feel a little less terrible. I'm just dreading having to do this again and again.

Did I mention how horrible this is to me?

Traps are cheap. What I do is put a plastic bag on my hand, grab the trap, turn the bag inside out, tie it and toss the whole thing.

Aw, bonny. I know you feel awful, I would too, but you cannot have mice in your house. If there's no way to keep them out, it just has to be done.

Mice and a small dog wreaked havoc with my evening. Mr. Peabody was apparently after something behind the entertainment center, got entangled in the million cords and unplugged the Tivo. As I was trying to unravel the cords and plug it back in, I knocked it off. It took a container with many small parts and a bunch of CDs with it.

The best blessing in the world is to have a normal child

Seriously!?!?!? Even if that were TRUE, who the fuck do they think it would be appropriate to say that to? Someone who is "too" happy about their child's whatever-ness, who needs to be brought down to earth and humbled? No, that's just asshole. Someone who doesn't have a "normal" child? Even more asshole. So that leaves....nobody. STFU.

I can't breathe well enough to sleep, due to making all the snot (with bonus sneezing and coughing). And now my ear has started hurting. I'm giving up and making tea.

What's the benchmark for legitimate calling in sick? Also, if I have met it should I text my supervisor now (12:30), in another hour or two, or when my alarm goes off in the morning (note: If A or B, I will be turning my alarm off)

What's the benchmark for legitimate calling in sick?

Sounds like you have met it. I say, call in now, turn off the alarm, take your preferred medicine, and go to sleep.

Woo.

Except, I have already taken a benedryl and an ibuprofin. I guess I should take a second hit of each.