For whatever reason, I overslept by almost two hours on Thursday. Oh, what an auspicious start to a day. I rolled out of bed, contemplating working from home. But no, I'll hurry my ass up and get into the office. I did my normal, turn on the TV and computer and headed to the kitchen to get a glass of milk with which to take my ibuprofen to quiet my stupid carpal tunnel/tendinitis.
As I walked to the kitchen (mind you, this is like, three feet from my couch), I saw the dark, small shape scurry across the door to the deck.
I screamed and high-tailed it to my bedroom. A mouse. A goddamn motherfucking mouse. I was terrified and angry.
The first thing I did was grab my backpack and start packing for at least one night away from home. If The Boy I Currently Like said no, I'd have to expand my search. But he offered before I even asked.
I got ready, packed and headed to work. Spent the night at The Boy's house and decided to go to the 'rents' for the weekend. The Boy offered up his place, but he was going to be out of town all weekend, so what's the point? At the 'rents', at least I'd get plenty of dog time. He was supposed to swing by my place to check poison placement and supply, but way overslept and didn't make it. OH GOD.
With him not stopping by, I decided I would lay additional poison when I stopped back here to shut off some lights and grab my laundry. I did a piss-poor job of poison placement. I thought I'd shove it behind the fridge, but I realized I'd have to move the fridge. In my panicked state, that wasn't gonna happen.
Yesterday was a fucking bitch. I got myself SUPER worked up about coming back here to the unknown. Like, I thought I was gonna throw up, or piss out my butt (CLASSY!). Oddly, though, once I got here, things felt mostly okay. I mean, I spent all night in my bedroom. I'm essentially doing the same tonight. Though, I did brave the kitchen briefly, to put my dinner leftovers in the fridge.
The Boy did come over after work tonight to check things out. The d-Con that I put out in the late spring to replace the stuff that was eaten was gone. The new, poorly-placed stuff was still full. I'm operating under the (probable) delusion that the mouse I saw Thursday was on its way from having eaten that d-Con. But if not, it can eat the new stuff and then fucking die. I even managed to go into the kitchen tonight. Wearing high-heeled boots and mostly covering my eyes. BUT I DID IT.
Hopefully my bravery will continue to mount over the course of the week, and by the weekend, I'll be able to do stuff in the kitchen. I hate buying my dinner from places. At least tonight I managed to save leftovers for tomorrow. And I've got a freezer full of stuff that means I don't have to worry about my lunch for a few days.
UGH. I hate being such a goddamn baby. But I am who I am, or whatever. I don't know what's making me so tired, but I'm very glad for the fatigue, or I might not sleep. I'm making sure to help things out here, by drinking plenty of wine.
This shit sucks, yo.