Like a broken record plays.

The Saga of the Mouse, part 2: Die Hard

Goodbye, evil vole.
Your presence was beginning to pall.
You had the guts to off yourself
with one dramatic fall.
You crawled out of the woodwork
and you'd crawl, yeah you would creep,
you ate out of the trashcan,
and you made me lose sleep.

And it seems to me you lived your life
as a torment to my own.
Never knowing when you'd come out
always made me frown.
And I am sorry that I knew you
For reals, I do not kid.
Gravity took you out long before
the rat poison ever did...

Thyroid? More like SIGHroid. (Get it?)

Methimazole tastes NASTY. I'm usually okay with taking medicine and I don't always need water when I'm swallowing pills (I almost never need water to be honest) so I figured that I would be okay doing the same with this anti-thyroid medicine.

It's the most amazing thing. This tiny little pill seems to expand to the exact size of your throat so that you can't get it down. At the same time, it fills your mouth with this horribly bitter flavor. And it's chalky. Also gross. It took me half a bottle of water to exorcise the taste.

I'm supposed to see the doctor again in four weeks to see how my thyroid hormone levels are. I'm also supposed to see the doctor immediately if I wake up feeling feverish and have a sore throat because it potentially means that all the white blood cells have left my body. Cool, huh?

On a side note, THERE IS STILL A MOUSE IN MY APARTMENT. I'm probably going to name him Harold.

The Saga of the Mouse, part 1: Here There Be Rodents

GUYS I HAVE A MOUSE IN MY APARTMENT. I saw it on Saturday night and my first reaction was to freak out, tell everyone I knew and then panic because the housing office isn't open on Sunday. It was a little sucker, running out from next to the refrigerator, staring at me malevolently for what seemed like hours, then scampering back. I immediately threw out every open food container in my cabinets... and fridge. I realized it may not have been the most rational reaction ever after my second trip to the dumpster.

On the way up to my apartment on the last trip, I saw my next door neighbor sitting on the stairs. Now, I was suspicious before this because it's a 20 year old boy who lives by himself... if it's a contest between myself, my right hand neighbor who I believe is gay and this guy, the natural inclination is to believe that he's the culprit that invited this demonic creature in the first place. I was right. I tentatively asked him, "Have you seen mice in your apartment?"
"Oh, yeah, don't worry about that," he said. "Someone let it get loose when they were feeding their snake.
"......"
"Was it a little one, hangs out in front of the refrigerator?"
" D= "
"Yeah, I've been trying to catch it. I probably shouldn't tell you this, but he woke me up one night running over my comforter. But don't worry about it, he won't hurt you."

Well, I did worry about it. I worried about it all day and called the office promptly on Monday. They sent someone over the same day and all I can tell the guy did was leave out a note that said "Please wait an appropriate amount of time to see if the pest control treatment worked." Well, what is the right amount of time? Because it's Wednesday AND I JUST SAW THE LITTLE SUCKER AGAIN.

But wait, let me tell you about Monday night. I was lying in bed, about to go to sleep, when I heard a strange noise. I was listening to some music at the time so I stopped the song and waited. Nothing. I turned the music back on and there it was again. I stopped the song entirely and walked to the kitchen, to see, perhaps, if the epitome-of-evil was running around the kitchen, training for any marathons, making little roller coaster rides so he could open an amusement park called "Six Flags Over DANGIT I can't think of any good jokes because I have a freaking MOUSE in my apartment". Nothing. I went back to bed. This time I heard some random squeaks and rustling again. I isolated the sound.... IT WAS IN MY AIR VENT.

The next thirty minutes were spent with all the lights on in the apartment, sitting about four feet away from the vent and debating whether I should open it to investigate. You know how, in the horror movie, the dumb person always goes to see the cause of that strange sound in the attic? I FINALLY understand. It's not like opening the vent would have done me any good. I wouldn't have seen any salacious scene that I could have used to blackmail the mouse into leaving my residence. But all I could think of was whether I should open the vent so... the mouse could jump on me and eat my face? So tempting, brain! I still wonder how I managed to talk myself out of it.

I don't really know what sort of activity went on last night because I was so tired from not sleeping, from imagining the little rat jihad that was slowly gaining more and more support ever since news of my use of chemical warfare has leaked, that I just passed out. It probably helped that in order to get away from this hellish houseguest I actually went out and exercised*! Maybe I should let him stay, at least until he charges up some outrageous phone bill or leaves his crap in the kitchen.

Oh wait. He already does that. Literally.

My coworker advocates taking matters in my own hands and buying the strongest poison I can find. I'm partial to the idea, except for the fact that I kind of want to use this as an excuse to bring some cats up here to hang out with. I get lonely sometimes, you know? And while mice are okay at listening, they really suck at giving advice.

Well, advice that doesn't involve jumping on their hosts and eating their freaking faces off.



*Geez guys, do you realize that it took me three minutes to spell "exercise"? I tried "excersize" and "exersice" before I gave up and used spell check.