So I Screamed Like a Girl!Why Dead Mice Suck.

I overslept.

I heard the diesel engine of the contractor’s truck pull into the lot.

I jumped out of bed and ran BAREFOOT to open the front door.

I ran BAREFOOT back through the apartment and grabbed the keys off the kitchen table.

I put my glasses on.

I glanced back at the front door.

I saw THIS on the rug.

Yeah, it was lying on the same path I took TO the door and FROM the door: barefoot. (Now to be truthful, this isn’t the actual mouse, I used this pix from ludicdespair.blogspot.com. A dead mouse is the same regardless where it died and who took the pix!)

I screamed like a girl!

The contractor came in.

I screamed at him.

Confusion ensued.

The contractor thought I was yelling at him.

I simply did not have sufficient, coherent words to explain why I was screaming.

Finally, the contractor understood me. He said, “I thought it was a TOY mouse!”

I begged him to get rid of it.

He obliged. He laughed.

I thanked him.

The cat is in the doghouse. Like she cares.