I am Mouse.
I see a crack in the wall, an escape. I run in a mad desperate dash.
The crack comes closer, closer. I am almost there.
Cat's paw lands in my path. Claws sweep me up. Cat chews me up (for good measure) and spits me out.
I am back on the floor, but I don't see the point of running any more.
Update:
I am feeling much better now. I wasn't in the mood for soft sweet condolences, but somehow Marsha's anecdotes (If you think that's bad, listen to this
) were terribly helpful. I have been assured that I am in very good company, that I didn't really want the job anyway, and that there are better opportunities out there when I'm ready to look for them. I must congratulate my friends on their skill in cheering me up. They managed to strike a masterful balance between sympathy and encouragement.
Of course it had to happen on a Monday morning. Bah.
Dorothea Salo says:
This is happening to TOO MANY GOOD PEOPLE that I know.
It SUCKS. It needs to STOP. NOW.
That is all I have to say.