It’s as if every time I enter my office, my once place of solitude, someone else is nursing new babies. Thank God Petco already took back “Bianca” who turned out to be “Brian” and they’ll soon be receiving all of his offspring (the moment they’re weaned). Homes are being lined up for some of the 22 baby rats and I’m fairly confident that we have now separated our sexes. God, I hope so.
Apologies for the lack of funny/snarky/embarrassing posts as of late; I’m still adjusting to being geographically single. Which, for those of you who haven’t done it, means random breakdowns (usually somewhere inconvenient, like the grocery store, where you realize I’m only shopping for one now), crying at all the wrong times and showering becomes the most monumental thing I accomplish some days. 
Sounds fun, right? On the bright side, I don’t have to shave my legs if I don’t feel like it and cheese and crackers can constitute a meal if I don’t want to cook, so there are some perks. Plus “deployed LT Fromage” (There is a regular and deployed version of every Military husband) is even more thoughtful than usual (and he was already so sweet he could make your teeth hurt), so I’ve been getting romantic cards in the mail, flowers delivered and heartfelt messages on my facebook wall every time I log on. Best of all, with the man around the house gone, I know I won’t catch this baby bug that seems to have hit all the other female residents of the Fromage Palace!
Only… Eff. I don’t even want to think about how much more we have left to go on this deployment. Thank God for girls’ nights and tequila in the meantime.
