Staring out of the window, looking at the stars...

Please excuse the dim light on the photo.  My small boss, Edie, is sleeping and I'm sitting next to her, on watch duty.

Well it's been an odd time, all this having time on my paws, rather than rushing around 4 different countries in one day as I used to do.  Yes, I did say countries, not counties.  You can read up on the history by reading my earlier posts if you don't know THAT story.

But most of you here do, so on with todays post.  As I was saying, it's been a very odd time. A very odd time indeed and I think I may have gone quite mad, really, but sort of quietly, happily mad.  I will try to explain.  

I was brought up to be a very well mannered and hard working Mouse. 'When you grow up, Mouse, you will get a job', Mummy Mouse used to say to me, 'and you will work hard and never be lazy.'  Of course all I wanted to do was play with my crayons and paints and stare out of the window. I was utterly convinced I could make a living at that!  However, like all good mice, when I left school I joined the Rat Race and my staring out of the window days were done. Gone. I carried on playing with my crayons, usually during the long, tedious calls when I was acting referee between the Farmers and Cheese Suppliers, doodling long, intricate spirals and little rainbow sketches of my small boss, Edie, but I usually stopped guiltily when one of the Farmers would suddenly yell across the conference 'Well, what are you going to do about it, Mouse? I want my cheese NOW. Please escalate my cheese order IMMEDIATELY OR I WILL ESCALATE YOU, MOUSE!' in that terribly shouty way. Of course I would get then get into a slight panic and my whiskers would start to tremble as I would have to tell the Farmers that they should, in fact, have submitted their cheese order 90 days before they actually wanted it, as per the cheese production process... 

But you've heard all that before.

Anyway, when I stopped flitting between continents on a weekly basis and decided to take some time out to properly look after my small boss, Edie, I found that I had had enough. Enough of rushing around, enough of packing, enough of flying, enough of sitting in an office, or on a plane, or in an airport, enough of bossy Farmers, enough of lazy cheese suppliers and enough of pointless, useless, endless cheese orders, each more urgent and utterly hopeless than the one that came before it...

But still, Mummy Mouse's voice echoed in my little head 'When you grow up, Mouse, you will get a job and you will work hard and never be lazy.'  So I decided to try.

I went to something called an 'interview'. I sat opposite a man in a suit (I had brushed my fur and whiskers and everything) and he started to tell me a story: 'Well, Mouse, the thing is, we want some cheese.  We aren't quite sure what we want, we want the Cheese Suppliers to tell us.  All we know is we wanted the cheese last week and the Management Team of the hotel we are ordering it for want an explanation now as to why the cheese hasn't been delivered. Oh, and they are rather cross that I told them the cheese would only cost a bit and actually, it's going to cost a fortune, so we want someone to come in, make the Cheese Suppliers give us lots of options - we don't want to pay for their expertise by the way, Mouse, and to give the bad news to the Hotel owners. Oh, and I forgot to mention, they are located 100 miles away, Mouse, and we feel it would be best if you go and sit with them every day so that they can SEE that you are sorting it out, Mouse.  What do you reckon, Mouse? Are you up to the job?'

THUD.  The sound of my head hitting the desk. 

I made some polite squeaks, stood up and offered my paw. 'Any more questions, Mouse?' asked the man in a suit. Where can I get a very strong coffee? Now? I didn't verbalise the thought, just muttered a pathetic 'No. Thank you. It'sbeennicetomeetyoubye.' and scuttled out of the door on paws of fire.

I couldn't go back to it. 

But how would I live? What would I do? I pondered the situation the best way a Mouse knows how. Over a vodka, with a friend.

'What do you want to do, Mouse?' she asked.
'I don't know.' I sighed. 'All I want to do is sit and paint and doodle and play with my crayons'.
'Why don't you then, Mouse?'
I raised one eyebrow as best I could - I never really mastered how to do that - in an attempt at a sarcastic stare. 'I can't think why, really, although I do quite like to eat and pay my bills...'
'You can do whatever you want, Mouse' she said. 'S'up to you'.

And I thought about it. And thought some more. And did some research on the interwebnet. And filled in some forms. And sharpened my crayons. And got out all of my old, scribbly pictures. 

And I asked my small boss, Edie, if I should get a proper job and earn some money, or whether I should draw pictures and write stories and she said...

'If you get a proper job you will stay as you are and nothing will change. If you draw pictures you will be happy. You will use your paws and your brain. Do what you want, Mouse. I will love you, whatever.'

But I could still hear Mummy Mouse saying 'When you grow up, Mouse, you will get a job and you will work hard and never be lazy.' And so I went to see Mummy Mouse, to ask her what I should do.  She laughed at me (but with kind eyes) and said 'Oh Mouse, you know, you can choose not to grow up if you like, and play with colours and paints and be happy. You've been a good little Mouse for long enough. Do what you want, Mouse. I will love you, whatever.'

And so I am going to be a student Mouse. I am going to draw and colour and paint and print and learn and read and write... 

And I will probably start experimenting with weird hairstyles and funny coloured drinks and I will be able to tell you about all the odd creatures who hang around in universities.

And I will be a happy little Mouse. And I think when you are a creative, artistic Mouse, you are allowed to stare out of the window...

Happily yours,
Mouse xx