Am I the worst at blogging?!
Yes! Yes I am! I promised myself that once school was over and I didn’t have to funnel all my writing energies into dumb papers about crap, I would start doing something interesting on this blog! Well guess what, suckers, because I’ve been done with school for a week and haven’t done anything! Although I did start a post about Game of Thrones and then get bored and give up midway through (ha ha, other than the giving up, not totally dissimilar to my experience watching Game of Thrones). Gooooooo me!
At any rate, my fiance is currently in Vegas on Day Two of a five day bachelor party extravaganza, during which I am home alone. I was looking forward to this time alone, actually. I lived alone for several years and came to really enjoy it, and it seems like it’s been ages since then. Yesterday was challenging, though. Some days just have a lot of little things go awry, you know?
See, there’s this mouse.
Fiance first spotted the mouse racing across the kitchen floor back in December. We bought a little live trap and set it out next to the dishwasher, since underneath said dishwasher was the last place the mouse was spotted.
Months passed. Nothing happened. I even started to tease Fiance that he had hallucinated the whole experience.
Then, one evening, I was watching Target Women videos (which are hilarious, by the way, and you should watch all of them, especially the one about yogurt) on my laptop while sitting on the couch, when I spotted… something. It looked like something falling from the arm of the couch, behind the cushion. But I couldn’t think of anything that had been there that could have fallen. Puzzled, and slightly nervous, I set my laptop on the coffee table and stood up, slowly. I reached over and lifted up the couch cushion–
And the mouse shot out of the couch straight toward my face. He scrambled down the side of the couch (which is upholstered in a rough, scratchy, highly uncomfortable burlap-y material that is like a ladder for mice) (I hate this couch but Fiance is highly reluctant to get rid of it even though it’s seriously uncomfortable and also not very attractive) and ran behind it. Fiance was in the bedroom watching… something. Some reality show that I hate (he is often kind enough to watch those in the bedroom so I don’t have to listen to the obnoxious people). I went to get him and solemnly told him “I believe you now about the mouse.” Together we watched as the little guy ran, panic-stricken, along the walls, trying to figure out where to go. Eventually he headed back toward the kitchen and dove headfirst under the stove.
The mouse trap was brought out again, this time set next to the stove.
Again, nothing happened. Months passed.
The weirdest part was that we never really saw any evidence of a mouse. Nothing seemed to be nibbled on and there were no little poops lying around.
Until one day I found mouse poop in the cabinet under the sink.
Resigned, we cleaned that out and replaced the mouse trap there.
By this time we had named the mouse Charlemagne and began to construct an elaborate backstory for him. He’s clearly far too intelligent to be a normal mouse, who would be easily fooled by the mousetrap. He must be an escapee from a science lab at the university a few blocks away. Like Jonathan Frisby, he has become a highly intelligent supermouse. Or at least they must have taught him about this particular style of mousetrap before. He even walked right on top of the trap, ignoring the tasty treats within, as I know very well because he took a crap right on top. Which I just think is rude. It’s bad enough that he’s roaming around my house; now he’s taunting me as well!
At any rate, yesterday as I was cleaning up the kitchen in preparation to make curried vegetable empanadas (so good, by the way), I discovered the mouse poop mother lode behind the microwave. As I said to Fiance via text message, “if mouse poops were millions of dollars, I would be Mitt Romney.” It was a lot. Of mouse poop. And no, you don’t have to tell me that it’s gross. I know. I was there. So I had to clean that all up. We’d already chucked the useless mousetrap in the trash, so I ordered a new one, which should get here around the same time that Fiance gets home from Vegas.
So that was the beginning of my day. And little things continued to go wrong as the day continued. Finally I realized the universe was telling me to go to bed already, so I did.
Today has been better!