I threw a wish in the well, don't ask me, I'll never tell

I know it's teeny-bopper, bubble-gum, middle school pop, but I have had "Call Me, Maybe" stuck in my head for about the last 24 hours.  It's an awful song to have stuck in your head, because it's the same thing over and over and over again.  But it's a fun song, catchy and relatable.  And I graced all of my coworkers with my pathetic rendition for about the entirety of my shift last night.  Here are some other musings while the Orkin man does his thing at this God-awful hour in the morning:

It's only a God-awful hour because I was out until about 2am last night.  We decided to mix it up from our usual Aurora happy-hour hangout to appease some folks who don't live out that way.  You know, the folks who bailed on us anyway.  So, we hit up Falling Rock Tap House, which I've been dying to go back to since the Denver Microbrew Tour introduced me last year.  A long drive from Fitzsimmons, but so is anything that's open past midnight and isn't seedy.  I got really excited browsing their beer menu before I'd even left work.  I had five beers picked out, knowing I'd have to narrow it down to two.  Good news, they were out of three of them.  Problem solved.  That's the only scenario in which being out of great beer is good news.  Bad news, I was already so tired by the time I pulled up on Blake Street that I totally spaced putting money in the meter.  Suddenly, a night of (expensive) beer and snacks added up, what with that $25 parking ticket and all.  Oops.  And then, there was the getting home just before 2am and having to get up to greet the Orkin man at 8am. 

So, on to pest control.  The joys of home ownership continue.  Snakes, hornet's nest, spiders, and of course, the reason for the visit--mice.  I feel a little redeemed by my Tuesday efforts of cleaning up the mice nest and setting my own traps until the pros could come in.  One mouse caught, unknown hordes to go.  Hopefully the additional traps and sprays work or I could end up with mutinous roommates.  And murine roommates.  Ha ha.

And now we will play ready, set, word vomit in order to finish the blog post in time to go shopping with Kelly.  Because, remember, after last night, spending money is just what I need.  I already have a hard enough time making it to Rockies' games, and now they suck so bad, I'm not sure I want to go.  It isn't summer in Denver without a trip to Coors Field, and I don't even have a game on the horizon.  I hit Canvas and Cocktails for the fourth time last weekend.  I'm what you call an "addicted painter."  If you need some artwork for your house, let me know.  Tickets for Dierks Bentley at Red Rocks go on pre-sale today (well, they went on pre-sale for Dierks fan-club members yesterday, for KYGO folks today), and I'm terrified I won't be able to get tickets.  One show that I would want to see no matter where he was playing, and it happens to be at the venue on my 30-before-30 list.  It would be just my luck to not get tickets.  However, I have the day off for Iron Man at Film on the Rocks, so that's a big plus.  Speaking of good movies, I found someone who has never heard of, much less seen, The Princess Bride.  Crime against humanity much?  I invited her over on Saturday.  I think I scared her.  Still playing the waiting game on the job front.  We'll see if I'm more management material than I am preceptor material.  Fingers crossed.  Trying to remember to pray.

Until next time...