The Girl Who Cried Mouse

As a girl from the sticks, I'm well accustomed to the occasional encounter of some form of wildlife: deer, raccoon, ticks, snakes, possums and rodents are par for the course. But as with everything else in life, we assimilate to our environments, and in the few years I've lived in my desert metropolis, I've become what's commonly referred to as a sissy. A wuss. A drama queen. I don't like bugs. I get annoyed when my flip flops get dirty when I'm watering my flowers each morning. Pet my boyfriend's dog? Has he had a bath in the past week? And rodents... that's something that's become unthinkable.

Except... when it's a reality. For the second time.

I guess it comes with the territory when your taste seems to always land on historic homes. They're not built to keep outside what I've defined as "outside life." There're holes, cracks and access points in which no matter how OCD you maintain a household (cue a handful of q-tips and windex when a bottle of tequilla has been shattered on the patio), the outside life inevitably finds its way in. And so, the second sighting of a mouse since we've resided in our palace of a downtown Phoenix abode has reared its ugly head. The news of the sighting has me more than freaked out.

Actually sleeping in the house is not an option (haven't you seen those shows where the rats scurry into your hair when you sleep?). And when I am in the house - the mandatory changing of clothes and bathing routine - my brain doesn't seem to throw me a bone:

Are they in my drawers? I can do without a bra today.
The kitchen... do you really need it? I guess I can do without breakfast.
Blowdrying your hair is much more fun perched upon your dresser.


Suppose one would suggest things could be worse. What's worse? A rapist could be actually living in your closet - fair. The mice could be attracted to my alcohol supply - that would be troublesome. They could have AIDS, tapeworm or be pregnant mice - traumatizing to even think. But is there really anything worse than living amongst the thing you fear the most?

Maybe people do it everyday. But I... I refuse to be one of those people. The minefield has been set - no inhumane method was overlooked - and the outcome doesn't look to be in the favor of the vermin. Ladies and gentleman, the case of the drama queen vs the rodent invaders has begun. Let the games begin.