My NYC tribulations continue! Some introduction is needed to this story.
Chris has made me a bit of a neat freak. When we first got together, when I first saw his house and room, I thought "oh how sweet, he cleaned up for me!", but no, this was his normal routine, everything in its place. So, as we progressed, I saw it drove him up the wall when my things were their usual "organized mess". So, I started to be neater, and now I can't focus on anything unless everything is clean and put away. I wash dishes 4 times a week, vacuum twice a week, mop once a week, and take out the trash as soon as it's full.
That being said, I took my trash out last night. This morning, I went to put a new bag in the trash can and discovered Stuart Little , a little house mouse, stowed away and nibbling on a rogue cap'n crunch that somehow got down there! I proceeded to gasp in horror (an action I usually save for the movies Andrew and I watch), run out of the room and call my mother. The verdict: take the poor scared fellow outside and set him free, and then go get traps.
Not only am I ashamed that I was afraid of a teeny little mouse (after the initial shock I decided he was adorable), but I'm ashamed that one was intrigued by my apartment! Now my eyes are constantly scanning for scurriers and nibblers, and I'm googling "humane mouse traps" because I couldn't bare killing one. Living alone is tough!
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