I have survived a week at my new job. It’s hell sometimes; other times it’s not that bad. I will never like it, but it is a way to survive, so I’m going to make the best of the situation. That’s the mature thing to do, right? When I walked into work, last Wednesday, I was introduced to my new coworker, Mary. Picture Felicity Huffman. Yeah, she’s very pretty, and she has the best laugh I’ve ever heard. The first thing Mary said to me was, “I hate this job.” Well, she’s definitely my kind of girl: speaks her mind. We instantly hit it off and I have been learning a lot from her and look forward to working with her every day. She has a couple of kids and a husband and she’s normal. She’s quitting. Tomorrow is her last day. I’m still waiting for someone to throw me that bone.
In other aspects of my life, I made a quick trip to the grocery store after work. I only had to pick up a few things, so I went to the store nearest my house. I grabbed a shopping cart and started on my way and saw a mouse run across the aisle. There were at least fifty people in that store at that very moment and no one saw it except yours truly. After I finished shuddering, I got my few things, all of which were packaged items that a mouse could not get to, which is the only reason I didn’t run out of there without my groceries, and went home to begin my nice, quiet evening. As I was stocking my refrigerator with the twelve-pack of diet sodas, I noticed that there was an empty can in the box. It had a hole in the bottom of the can. I only got an eleven-pack. I guess that mouse likes Diet Rite, too. BONE, people.