The curious incident of the mouse in the house
I had been sitting quietly contemplating important matters such as electrolysis and the number of road runs I should sign up for. I have developed this peculiar belly ache, which really shouldn’t be that peculiar given the amount of mac and cheese I’ve eaten over the past few days and that I’m a firm believer that Starbucks eggnog lattes should be consumed everyday during the last week in December because they are damn serious when they say they’ve run out: Which means finding yourself verklempt and saddened while traipsing around the city of your choosing in dire need of frothy caffeinated eggnog. All of this while deep into a Criminal Intent marathon and questioning whether or not Robert Goran and I could make sweet, sweet love.
There had been flashes out of the corner of my eye since yesterday, which could be a manifestation of the aforementioned Law and Order watching with intermittent viewings of the Real World/Road Rules challenge. Perhaps all of the murder and cattiness got to me and I developed a brain disorder whose symptoms could be an eye thing. Maybe. So the mass had been drifting about for days, but I blinked it off and went back to testing out the chocolates and writing things like, stop being an overly obsessive bitch in 2007, in my moleskin.
And here is where I point out how truly fascinating my life is. Also? I’m not sure it’s possible to be more boring, but for fuck’s sake be less boring in 2007. And do away with eating fish, given that I only eat fish so that I can eat as many filet of fish as I desire. It's a sickness.
And so this evening, I figured that this was just more imaginations and also a really awful side effect to not having any fermented grapes for almost nine days, which is a record somewhere. That is until the mass came out of hiding. For the mass is a real live little baby mouse. A little baby mouse that warrants standing on the couch and doing Lamaze breathing while stealthily (well stealthily as possible with the loud ‘hee hee hoo’ going on) grabbing all of the Twizzler nibs that had fallen on the floor in addition to the DVDs and turning off the television with my nose. Of course the DVDs were unnecessary given that I left the blasted DVD player in the room with the little baby mouse that at some point this evening will gnaw my face off.
Now, in case you were wondering, I am not a tiny little person nor am I a complete girly girl who fears spiders and snakes. No. I can man the fuck up when needed and the very rational side of me knows that I am roughly 1.2 million times the size of the little baby mouse which I could easily stomp dead with my size 11 foot (see? Not tiny). But instead I take the not very calculated hopping up on the couch and gathering the necessities (see: DVDS, but no DVD player and lack of sneakers) running out of the room, and slamming the door behind me route. One that leads to me running up the stairs and tripping over a very well placed kitchen island, which came out of nowhere and should really be moved in the event of a rabid field mouse that will bite my arms off, of course after magically getting through the glass sliding doors and into my bedroom at the other end of the house. It might even claw my eyeballs out, but again…I’m not really sure.
And hopefully next year, I’ll not only be slightly thinner and less obsessed and maybe I’ll grow some balls of the brass and pseudo nature, that is.