I Shall Call Him Mickey

In my life I've encountered many mice.

1. While working at sleepaway camp, a lot of girls underwear (for some reason) mysteriously looked like they were being eaten. Then, one night in the counselor's bunkroom we heard a noise, opened a drawer, dropped said drawer and proceeded to girly squeak as a little mouse scurried away.

2. Living in Union Square (Manhattan) mice were basically considered another form of a bum. I'd walk to the subway and watch the mice run off with every step I took.

3. While visiting Caitlin, we both heard something in the middle of the night but were too tired to investigate. The next day, we opened her cupboards to fix us something to eat and instead discovered a huge mess. The mouse had gnawed it's way into a big box of rice.

4. When my ex-boyfriend and I went to NY to find jobs, we stayed at a not so cheap Ramanda one night. We were on the 7th floor. I heard shuffling behind the entertainment center. The trash can tipped over and a mouse ran about. I piled everything we had onto the bed and wouldn't come down for about an hour. They gave us 10% off: for mouse in room.

So yesterday, I was knitting and watching Degrassi (I seriously have an addiction). That's when I kept hearing weird little noises. The same noises I've heard time and time again when I later discovered a creepy little Fievel. I turned the TV off for about an hour and everytime I heard the noise I'd try and investigate, but couldn't find anything. The noise was in the walls, maybe in the air vent (where they usually get in- those bastards). I called everyone I knew in a panic. It's the first time I've been alone with a mouse and I freaked. I called Mike crying. I called Zach, who didn't believe me. I called Beth who told me to move.

I think I may have to take down this fucking thing. It's me against the world (of mice) folks. Get ready and take cover.