Mousehunt

I was going to blog about something real and relevant about how I'm feeling and what I think about Cambodia. You know, something other than silly marriage proposal stories. And then my life was rudely interrupted by something small and furry.

While cooking dinner this evening, a mouse ran past me and behind the refrigerator. Perhaps you don't know this, but I am not a fan of small, furry animals. So, of course, my reaction was to freak out. Not necessarily screaming, but definitely not actively pursuing the mouse. Poor Deanna (my new roommate) has been a champ, agreeing to look for The Invader and try to get rid of It. The last sighting was when That Creature ran into the laundry room (after almost touching me while I was spying on the stairs-- the only time I screamed), and we're hoping It surreptitiously slipped out the back door while we were eating dinner. When we looked again, The Enemy was gone.

When I lived in California, I killed crickets like crazy. I've squashed cockroaches here, and put up with lizards, spiders, and other giant flying insects. Yet this mouse is another story entirely. I don't like it one bit, and we are getting a trap tomorrow. I'm willing to blame habitat destruction for this unforseen event; there is a school being built behind the apartment, and all the foliage has been cleared, likely leaving our new houseguest homeless. That certainly doesn't make It welcome, though. I should also add that every noise that comes through the walls (and there's a lot... I think the neighbors are moving furniture) is making me think that The Intruder is loose and creating havoc. It's not a nice thought.

So now I am hiding out in my bedroom, hungry for a snack, but too afraid to face The Monster in the Kitchen. I realize that it's pathetic, but it's just the way things are. Until the problem is taken care of, no more serious reflection. Or, apparently, snacks.