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2004-04-19 - 7:48 p.m. Of Mice and Me When someone walks by and you hear SLAP SLAP SLAP because they're wearing flipflops... THAT sounds like Summer. Thank goodness. Not like it had even felt like Spring until last week. Next thing you know the grass will wake up and start to grow in my front lawn and I'll have to mow it and I'll be all complaining again, but for now, YAY that it finally seems to be Spring. If it snows next week, I guess it's my fault now. And I have tentative plans to go to Jersey on Saturday, so it would be about right. I got a new mouse today at work. YAY! It's an optical mouse with a scroll wheel. Could you just DIE of jealousy, people? Hey, humor me, I'm trying to recapture my will to work. The last mouse had serious issues. Which, of course, were caused by working so closely with me. Sorry, mouse. Problem was, it wouldn't roll up and down any more. Just side to side. No paint the house. Just paint the fence. We won't even talk about its lack of wax on wax off ability. Its problem, I'm sure, is that there's a piece of hair wrapped around the roller. This tends to happen to my mouse friends. I have long hair (although my mother-in-law thinks it's too short but those are rodent issues of a whole other kind with which we will not deal at the moment) and sometimes a piece cuts loose and sneaks into the mouse to tie up the works. I'm not a bit surprised it happens at work especially, because at work I sit and pull my hair out. Literally. It's like a fidgeting thing. The cleaner and smoother my hair is, the less I tend to do it, but I do it even then. Let's pause to examine the specific practice of this neurosis in detail, shall we? If you had anything better to do, you'd be out doing it, after all. So here we go. What I do is, while I'm working or reading or whatever, I run one hand through my hair, and if it runs right through, that's about it. Until ten seconds later when I do it again. But God forbid I find a tangle, or a frizz, or a place that's a little bit rough from having some excess hair product applied to it. I'll worry that to death. In the process, I pull out or break off strands of hair. It's a wonder my hairdresser doesn't say to me every time he sees me, "What on God's green earth have you been doing to your hair?" But he doesn't. He fixes it and says it looks fabulous. Which by the time he's done with it, it does. The man works for his tips, folks. Anyway, one strand at a time, this doesn't seem like much. But once in a while I've started to leave work for the day and looked on the floor and found a little bird's nest of hair. You'd think I had cleaned a hairbrush after a week of using it. My cat has a compulsive grooming neurosis. She grooms herself to the point where she pulls out fur and leaves bald patches. I'm so not kidding. I wonder where she got that? Yes, I feel very very guilty, thank you for asking. my mood - |
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