CURSES!

Today I was shocked and appalled to discover that a book I borrowed from a friend was mangled along its edges on my watch! Now when I say mangled that sounds exaggerated and you might wonder if I’m doing too much…well no I’m not, look at the markings at the bottom of the cover…what do you see? Can you use your forensic know-how from watching CSI and almost every other crime show to determine what specifically happened here? Clearly I already know the answer; I’d just like to know how many people guessed correctly. The answer…drumroll…is…a mouse!!!!

First and foremost, I absolutely loathe these creatures and expect to only see them in nature or on Tom and Jerry…is it even possible to see that cartoon anymore? Ok! ‘My name is Cija and I had a mouse’. Note the use of the past tense, because I’m not a chick who plays, if you are not contributing to my household in some way shape or form and your preferred method of relieving oneself is leaving a little path of pellets a la Hansel and Gretel breadcrumbs, then you gots to go! I noticed this friggin mouse about a month ago, while posted up catching up on Love & Hip Hop one evening I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye…that is never a good sign especially in your apartment when you think you’re alone. Initially I didn’t see anything and then the bastard decided to try its luck and popped its pea-size head up again and that’s when I shrieked all loud and it scurried back under the damn fridge from whence it came. Needless to say this mouse, I think it was a baby, continuously made guest appearances during my waking hours. See if its ass waited until I went to sleep it might be alive to help write this story but alas no such luck. After a couple of weeks I guess the mouse decided lights-on foraging wasn’t good for its health so it disappeared or so I thought until I saw the dead giveaway, frigging pellets! I bleached the floors, all around my counters, pretty much everywhere to wipe its little trail clean and try to dissuade it from reappearing and for a week it seemed like it worked…then that bitch dropped some damn pellets again and so finally I hit up my landlord. I don’t blame if you ask the question, ‘why the haile didn’t you call them sooner?’, I respect that, ummm it’s like this, the exterminator visits every month so any issues I have from time to time are handled by him, so I guess I thought this situation would remedy itself buuuut I was incorrect.

Over about seven years of being in this apartment and I’ve only occasionally had issues with the random mouse here or there and they always appeared to have stayed in the kitchen. In fact, that’s how I’ve kept my sanity all this time: I don’t like rodents, I would never have one as a pet, I can intellectually understand why a mouse would want to be in a kitchen-duh-there is the possibility of food…so it was with great anger that I saw a forgotten pellet on the floor of my bathroom, no I wasn’t freaking out over a black speck of something else, perhaps a broken piece of black plastic from my hair dryer…nope…that ‘son of a biscuit’ (remember that one Jezaira? LOL!) decided to take the grand tour and left one of his little homies behind. I seethed with rage and knew I had entered new territory as had this mouse. So I called the landlord and told her that whenever there’s a mouse I mentally can deal with it because they stay in their lane and disappear. I further explained that this one had broken the unspoken rule: you should not be seen or heard or leave pellets in your wake. I left her a nice detailed message about how my sanity depends on the fact that it does not cross the carpet and this one had done one better and even made it to the back area of the apartment. The next day there was a pack of snap-traps on my counter. My first thought? ‘WTF am I supposed to do with this?’; I’m not trying to set it and then snap my damn fingers off, talk about a problem with a tenant. All I can say is thank goodness for the b.f. he put some peanut butter on that joint, set them up in the security breech zones and within 12 hours that bitch got snapped up. I wish PETA would have something to say… ‘use the glue traps’, ‘catch it in a box and set it free’…nahhhh…like Chris Rock said in his first HBO special, ‘Grand Opening. Grand Closing’ and I’m out! Oh yeah, but I’m not, soooo the book.

In a nutshell, today at work I brought the book to return to my friend who still has no idea this happened…guess she’ll know now. But yeah, I was talking to my co-worker Brad when he noticed the book and made a comment about it. I pulled the book down to begin talking about it as well, when I spied the previously un-frayed edges now frayed. Like how I’ve heard near-death experiences go down, where your life flashes before your eyes is exxxxactly what happened when I saw the edge of that book: ghost of last month’s mouse passed swiftly before my eyes and I realized that not only had this mouse totally disrespected me but it also decided that the only book it was going to gnaw on was one I didn’t own AND it let me know that letting it get its head snapped in a trap is worth it for my having to shell out some money to replace the book and for it having the nerve to use my apartment as its own playground. I’m all better now.

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