Termites.
Beetles.
Spiders.
Cockroaches.
Mice.
No, this isn't a list of things that gross me out (all though they do). These were my roommates. After 26 roach motels, 12 bottles of Japanese Raid, two visits from the exterminator, and much prayer, I was finally living on my own. Free from all these critters, once and for all.
Or so I thought.
I had about a three week stretch of feeling like I was actually alone in my apartment. Then tonight, I settled in for a night of movie watching and laundry hanging. Fantastic. Wonderful. Freaking domestic heaven.
Then I hear scratching.
This wasn't unfamiliar scratching. You see the aforementioned mice have never had the guts to look me in the eye. Since they reside INSIDE the walls of my apartment, they scratch, gnaw or whatever it is that mice do to let me know they're there.
So tonight, after two weeks of presumed freedom from house guests, I hear this scratching. How passive aggressive! I mean just grow a pair and come out of hiding. I have no respect for cowardice.
I know what you're thinking. Wouldn't seeing the mouse freak you out more? No. No it wouldn't. Scratching is far more terrorizing than actually seeing a mouse in your house for the following reasons:
1. You can't sleep for fear it will gnaw its way through the wall and on to your face.
2. You have no release for the murderous rage you have for it.
3. Never seeing it, your imagination will run wild. There's no longer a mouse in the house. The miniature creature living in your wall is a mix between Animal from the Muppets, a cannibalistic Chucky and a bi-polar Monchichi.
I just want my home away from home to have a modicum of peace.
Is that too much to ask?
2 comments:
apparently, yes.
Oh man, your battles with the vermin from hell kill me! I have only heard the scratching from mice once before in my life (my mistake for leaving a container of peanut butter cups in my closet - don't ask why, because I don't know why), but I convinced myself that it couldn't possibly be a mouse, there's no way there's a mouse around, and in convincing myself, I was able to fall asleep in feigned blissful ignorance. Only to wake up in the morning and poke around where the scratching had been coming from, and see peanut butter cup wrappers lying on the floor in the closet, thus proving the existence of the mouse. That wrapper still sits on the floor of my closet to this day as a reminder of the truth of what really was in the walls... :) I'm about to move out of my current living situation and live on my own, so I'm sure you'll be hearing me commiserate some more with you on your epic battles with your "roommates" :). I can't wait to hear more :)!
Post a Comment