I came face to face with New York City this weekend. On Friday evening, my nice quiet apartment invaded by a mouse.
He ran across the hall in the kitchen and I told myself to ignore it - it had to be my imagination, right? After all, I'm TERRIFIED of mice and both of my roomates were gone and my dad was 1000 miles away.
Pretty soon the mouse ran in to my room.
The mouse ran from my dresser to the bookcase.
I screamed more.
The mouse ran from my bookcase to my closet.
I stood up on my bed and began to scream even more.
I called my dad - no one was home.
I called a friend, who laughed. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked.
"I don't know but there's no way I'm leaving this bed until something happens to that mouse."
In the next 3 minutes the mouse ran back and forth between my dresser, the bookcase, and my closet, me screaming each time the furry little grey thing ran across the floor. At one point it stood in the middle of the room, not knowing where to go next, and I just stood on my bed and screamed.
Soon my friend arrived to rescue me along with one roomate. The mouse was not seen for the rest of the night, but appeared the next day ON OUR KITCHEN COUNTER.
Where are all of my midwest boys when I need rescuing?