My Wednesday isn’t done quite yet. It’s just after 1 a.m., I have the dryer going, and just came back from Mos Walmart (“you will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy”) where I was buying mousetraps.
Yeah, I had all but decided to say “screw plans” and go to bed (as I’ve got opening shift at 8-ish), and just finished putting some things away when I saw a dark streak shoot across the kitchen floor.
Shit. A mouse means there’s no freaking way I’m gonna sleep tonight til I’m sure that thing isn’t gonna show up in my bedroom or bathroom.
Well, I’d heard some weird squeaking maybe half an hour before that, loud enough that the dogs started barking. I was wondering if something was up with the fridge or A/C, like the bird dropped some food debris in the floor vent and it was scratching while the air blew out.
Or the bird, who has been sick lately, was trying to get back to talking normally again.
Well, now I know that squeaking was a mouse.
Dammit, dammit, dammit!
I will not sleep now til I know the thing is dead, and then set up more traps in case there’s siblings around. I won’t be able to sleep until the peanut buttery goodness entices it to make something snap, or I hear a squeaking as a result of it being stuck on a sticky mat. I’ve had pretty good experience with both… though my heeler-dog kept sniffing around where the peanut butter was til I sat back on the couch.
So, might as well do some chores til I can deal with this.
The first time I had to deal with a mouse in the house–my old place–I got the shock of my life because I had to take dad to surgery and it was 3:30 a.m. I was half asleep, using the toilet and felt this furry thing zip behind my ankle. And while dad was in the hospital, I got all kinds of traps and set them around the kitchen and other areas. I was up til midnight that night and heard a frantic squeak, indicating it was stuck in a sticky trap.
Ever since that moment, if there was a mouse in the house, I knew I couldn’t sleep until it was caught and dead.
Well, I was thinking about all the stuff I needed to do to clean up outside and in all day long. I’d been thinking for days because I really need to get this place organized and just get excess crap out of here and into the shed. Now that the yard’s not a swamp, I can get the dolly and haul things out there without ruining them.
But not just the weather, my general depression and inability to do much after a day of work just made me look at the building mess and shrug. This place is a freaking mess. So, I’d been looking for a way to get past this.
Guess I found it–I want no mice in this house, never ever again, and I gotta find ’em and kill ’em.
That’s much easier when I don’t have a lot of stuff in corners that could hide a mouse a lot easier.
I just really don’t want to see that thing scampering across my floor while i’m in my bare feet. I haven’t taken my shoes off since. I’ll have a full on freak-out if that thing touches me.
Funny how after I first saw the thing, I threw a bunch of boxes on the front porch, and bagged some things up that I’d been thinking about getting out of here.
A freaking mouse.
In my new house.
Yeah, well… if you don’t clean like you should, what the hell can you expect?
Of course, if I can get this stupid lien situation resolved (determined to e-mail again now), then I’ll feel better about getting my home dealer out here to replace the dirt at the foundation and get this yard cleaned up and covered in grass again. They could probably find how it got in while they were under there, and I could get an exterminator or something to come out. I sprayed for termites, maybe it’s time to spray for rodents too.
Sheesh, I’m worn out and don’t want to work an 8-3 shift tomorrow. I want to relax and clean and sleep in…
But how can I sleep knowing there’s a mouse in the house?
Wish my dogs could or would hunt the thing, but they just saw this thing zip by and did nothing. If my dachshund was still here, it’d be hunting right now. That thing was a supreme roach and spider hunter, that’s for sure.
Well, time to do some laundry and figure another place to put a peanut butter classic trap that the dogs can’t get to. One may not be good enough, even where it’s at, if I want it done sooner rather than later.
Crap. Time to fold some laundry and keep my shoes on til I’m sure i’m not gonna accidentally step on a mouse.
Nice to know I’m getting some chores done, though, even if it’s under duress and because of sleep deprivation. Ugh.
3 thoughts on “I Think I Found What Will Snap Me Out of My Depressive Apathy Toward Taking Care of My House…”
UPDATE: Got one. It was three a.m. by the time I got the sticky trap with the mouse on it (still trying to jump out of my hand of all things) out the door and into the curbside garbage. Yes, I had a thick glove on so I would’t touch it–eww. And then I set a few more traps out in case siblings came by and went to bed.
Despite Disney’s attempt to convince me that mice are adorable, I think they’re icky and awful and I’m sorry you’re dealing with this. Sympathies.
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I found another one this morning before leaving for work. I thought I heard some odd, hollow skittering noise. Just happened to lean over and saw a mouse staring at me from the bottom of my recycling bin. It’d had bottles and cans in there for months til I emptied it out a few days ago. Guess it thought there was still something good in there to eat. I carried the bucket out and emptied it straight into the curbside garbage bin–that little guy’s gone to the city dump now (hee hee).
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