I am being driven mad by the recent mouse infestation in my apartment. The people who lived above us were apparently slobs, and their apartment was full of mice; now that they’ve moved out and the apartment is being renovated, all the mice are leaving the noise and turmoil of upstairs and coming to stay with us. We’re like the mouse Hamptons. Or perhaps the mouse Fire Island (depending on the proclivities of the mice involved).
At the beginning of the week, the super gave me a bunch of glue traps. Since then, I have apprehended and disposed of six mice. There are at least three still at large, and perhaps a great many more.
At first I worried alternately that I was damaging my karma and that there would be no one to help me get dressed to go to the ball after I’d helped my wicked stepsisters get ready. I felt very bad.
That was Monday.
Now I just want the fuckers dead and gone.
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