Rats are amazing little creatures, you know. They can smile. People don't believe me, but I swear my rats smile. This morning, for example, as I approached Milo and Seamus' cage, Milo excitedly scrambled from his position in the litter box, stepping on the edge of the container and thus flinging poo and pee-soaked kitty litter all over himself, scurried up to the cage door, and gave me a cheery "pick me up, mum" smile, big eager ratty eyes and all.I love these rats, but really, I wish they were a little more graceful sometimes. Then again, I guess it's my fault for not bolting the litter box to the floor of their cage somehow.
So James' mum got married on Saturday. It was a nice service, and the reception was great. I love an open bar. I had about four caesars and a bottle of red wine. The good news is, I only got sick once.
During the ceremony, the minister asked us all to join him in "the Lord's prayer". Everyone did except me, the only non-Christian dolt in the room who didn't know the words. It was just assumed that everyone knew it. Then again, nearly everyone did. James has one hell of a Christian family, really. Ha .. hell of a Christian family .. I wasn't even trying to be funny there.
I'm only getting 15 hours of work per week now, it seems, which just isn't enough for me .. not even enough to live on, really. I either need to get another job, or have a talk with my manager. I hate looking for work. I really, really do.
My room is a sty these days, and I hate it. It seems impossible to keep it clean somehow ... maybe I just need to stop eating up there. And start taking the laundry down before the hampers overflow and dirty clothes end up on the floor. I just hate that the laundry room is four floors down. Stupid skinny long high townhouses.
The rat and gerbil room (that would be this room, the "office") is the hardest to keep clean. It always smells in here. I like to tell people my rats are litter trained, but they're not, really. The boys do most of their crapping in the litter box, but a significant amount of it is done elsewhere, and they piss wherever the hell they want. The girls don't touch the litter box at all, except to flip it over and dump rocky kitty litter all over the place. I have got to come up with a better rodent-maintenance plan. I love them all, but they're stinkers.
My hair is fully blonde now, with no more peachy-orange spots, and I like it. I'll put a picture up soon enough.
I need to eat now. More later.
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