A Day to Remember

Hello My Partners in Anti-Micing and Preservation of Sanity Club,

Though you have each had the pleasure of a personalized version of my m---e story, I am hoping that a written debriefing will bring me a step closer to recovering from the trauma.

While studying fluorescing jelly-fish and stained L8 m---e-fibroblast cells, sipping on some green tea at my faithful post, I felt something on my right leg. I casually shook my leg and out falls a m---e. This means it had to have crawled across my precious Plush-eez slipper, under my favorite paint-splattered faded flare-leg jeans, to reach my right lower extremity. So, when the m---e fell onto the floor, it scurried behind my desk, behind my bookshelf, across my rug, to take refuge behind my backpack. Alarmed by my continuing screaming, it dashed to safety somewhere in the kitchen. It haunted me for the next several minutes with soft noises of scurrying.

When at the verge of emotional breakdown, I called dad to recover my wits. He comforted me by reminding me that m--e are not carnivores, asking me if I have shaved my legs recently, recommending I purchase a trap, telling me that m--e are cute and fuzzy and sweet, and assuring me that it would not make the trek up into my bed. After this enlightening conversation, I called my dear friend Natalie, hoping for some more sympathy. I was dissappointed to hear that she in fact likes m--e, finds them cute and fuzzy and sweet, and has pictures she wants to show me of her pet m---e she had for years, that used to nest in her hair and sleep. I hung up the phone. Finally, I spoke with my supportive sister...or not. Supportive sister reminds me that if the m---e gets stuck on the sticky traps I set out (as a back-up device), I will have to kill it. I told her I would recruit marijuana guy from next door to do that. She went on to say how cute and fuzzy and sweet m--e are. She said to pretend that the m---e is Templeton from Charlotte's Web. The only problem with drawing that connection is that Templeton is a huge r-t. Not helpful. When I got home from the store where I bought two traps, two sticky pads, and rodent poison, I met marijauna man outside my apartment. He asked how I was, and of course I had to tell him about the m---e. He said he has lived here for three years and never seen a m--e. He said if he hears me scream he will not call the police. Nice.

To top things off, I just got a knock on my door from hard-rock dude from across the way who said, reeking of alcohol and lack of showering, "if you want to get away from your m--e, we are having a party, as you can hear, and would love for you to come join us." His friend walks up and says, "yeah, if you want to get away from your m--e...that's disgusting." Agreed, losers. I don't need to be reminded. If the only way that I am going to meet my neighbors is through a stupid m---e, then so be it.

So now, I am going to try to sleep without having nightmares about carnivorous Templeton's.

I love you all and hope that I survive through the night.

Selina



To top things off, I just got a knock on my door