Pestilence, Part II

I flip on the light and climb down from the loft. I'll have a look around and then go back to sleep, I tell myself. I'm sure there's nothing here. And beside, if there was, it'll be scared by my presence and will surely leave for the night. Right?

I reach for the light in the bathroom and snatch back my hand, horrified, as the light falls on a mouse scampering up the wall just inches from where my fingers had been. Oh no. Oh eww. Now what?

I look for his escape hatch and finding more than 10 good options, admit defeat and think think think about what my options are at 11:30 pm on a Friday night. Ah ha! I'll move my little sonic rodent deterrent from my bedroom to the outlet where he was formerly lounging. Hopefully it's just on the other side of his little smuggler's cave and I'll send ear-splitting sonic pulses IN and he'll send his friends and family members OUT.

Except that upon closer inspection, my little sonic rodent deterrent doesn't appear to be working. Which would explain why I have a mouse problem to begin with. Why I'm shocked at this discovery is beyond me. I consider myself fairly clever. Yet here I was, in a mild state of shock at this extraordinary failure.

What now, I ask myself? Run away, myself replies. No, you coward, I counter with disdain. Don't run! They're just mice. You've stayed in houses with mice before. You've slept in AT shelters crawling with them. This is just for one night! What are you, some kind of wuss? Back up the steps, back under the covers, lights off, eyes closed. Turns out I can be quite a bully.

But then...more sounds. Some coming from the direction of the kitchen. Some from the bathroom and one, alarmingly, from the lampshade near my head.

ENOUGH.

I turn on the light, shove my blankets off the bed, toss down a pillow, grab the first handful of clean work clothes I can find, snatch my toothbrush and shampoo from the bathroom and flee to my car. Safe.

I do a quick mental tally of who might be awake at this hour, and more importantly, who might have a spare bed for me tonight. The pickings are slim but after ruling out Emily (who has been sick as a dog all week) and Stevo & Lisa (who are out of town and also share a house with my also-out of town ex boyfriend,) I alight upon the staff house which at this time of year is only half full. I text, they (mercifully) respond and I'm on my way.

I bundle myself and my stuff through the door of the staff house, find an empty room and am asleep, blissfully rodent free, in a matter of moments.

My save haven. Phew.

To be continued...