"I'm sorry, we just suck right now."

-- My favorite response to customers' repeated frustration over all of our out-of-stock items. Not that I would say that ... don't have the seniority to quite get away with something that potentially snarky.

Work right now is hair-tearingly frustrating; due to, I don't know, planets aligning, Peter finally making his debut as the Antichrist, global warming, a ton of our stuff is out of stock. Not just sold out, but it's just not at the warehouse right now. And we don't know when a lot of it's coming back. The next time someone responds to this explanation with, "But it's so good!" I want to slap them into next week. The one doesn't really have anything to do with the other. Yes, we're out of something because we sold it, because people buy the things they like, but we're not this out of stock just from selling lots of stuff. No, this is apocalyptic-level out of stock.

This is where living in my neighborhood really gets to me. The people here are so incredibly used to getting everything they want right now that a simple wait of two weeks for, say, trail mix, is just out of the question. GAH!

It's nice to come home to a pet. All Kermit asks is that my hands smell interesting. And "interesting" can be as little as "I touched cardboard today." Easy.

Medieval Helpdesk

Please check this out. It will make you laugh.

Lost

I also forgot to report that we survived losing Kermit (in the old apartment).

He was perched on my shoulder one minute, watching me get his supper ready. The next minute, he wasn't. I completely lost it, hyperventilating, moving large appliances to check under them. (I thought he jumped to the fridge, fell behind it, then hid under our dishwasher, from whence we would never be able to retrieve him.)

Michael sent me to go get ready for bed, seeing as I was useless. After my shower, I went to our walk-in closet to get my pjs. Something skittered out from under the laundry hamper, and we found Kermit.

So somehow, he managed to go from the kitchen, down the hall, through our bedroom and into the closet (where he had never been before). He had to have run along the floor, as there is nothing to cling to along the way. He also had to have done all this in the about 30 seconds it took me to realize that he was no longer on my person.

He was also quite happy to be in the "clothes-forest," as he called it. It took a lot of convincing to get him to come back to Mommy (had to put on my bathrobe. He likes terrycloth.). --Especially when he found out he could fly from one side of the closet to the other. Oy.

Wardrobe Malfunction

OK, so we're "person-to-person" training Kermit. So far, the training is working pretty well: i.e. he's learned that he isn't physically capable of sticking to most furniture he's hurled himself at, while humans are pretty universally easy to cling to.

Until ...

... the brother-in-law showed up in a windbreaker. Whoops!

Busy month

... So I think I'm just about ready to rejoin the human race.

1) We moved ... end of last month, not quite done unpacking yet (waiting on the Tile Guy to do some last finishing touches so I can load up our shelving unit)
2) Threw a surprise birthday party for Husband (who will be 30 on Wednesday)
... is that it? Wow. Felt like more.