Oh, holyfuckingshit. I just got an email (from the apartment manager) tellign me someone saw a mouse go in my apartment. Have I told you I am fucking TERRIFIED of mice? Also, they want to come in and set traps. I don’t want to find a mouse, but I really don’t want to find a fucking dead mouse, either. FUCK.

And then, two hours later…

-still obsessing over mouse- worst thing is, it could have ran back out & I’ll never know, always left to wonder. We need to move.

I called around and found the closest hardware store to me actually sells no kill mouse traps, so that’s good, I guess. I really hate the idea of a mouse being in here though. I want to pick up all my clutter so it has no where to hide and will leave…but I’m too scared that I’ll pick something up and a mouse will run out. Oh god, the idea just gave me the shivers.

I know it sounds really dumb to be this scared of a mouse, but all small creatures freak me out. My mom used to talk a LOT about how if we touched a mouse, we’d get the plague and die. Honestly, it’s surprising I’m not more scared.

Also, why didn’t my cat take care of this whole situation for me? Ok, I know she would just LOVE to kill a mouse-she’s always killing the spiders and she was always very interested in our hamster. Why didn’t she catch the killer mouse this morning so this was never an issue, hmm?

Ok, in reality, I guess I wouldn’t want to find my cat with a bloody mouth and have to clean up the situation there. Why can’t mice all stay out in the forest and I’ll stay in here and we can all live in our peaceful bubbles?

Someone come over and take care of it for me, mmmk?

Me: “Awesome! Barack Obama is now following me on Twitter! How fun.”

McCayla: “Shouldn’t he be trying to kick McCain’s butt instead of stalking you on Twitter?”