If a cow ever got the chance...

The mice are back, for real. I got off the phone with Outgrabe and walked into the kitchen and something ran behind the glassware shelf. I stood there for a minute. Then moved the shelf and the mouse was just sitting there, looking at me. We were both sort of petrified. It was little and gray with a pointy face. Eventually it broke the stalemate by running under the heater, since I was scared to take my eyes off it and couldn't think of any way to remove it from the apartment without touching it.

These little infestations wouldn't happen two or three times a year if I wasn't such a fucking slob. I have no doubt the mice are real, but I think they serve a larger symbolic and psychodramatic purpose. They are the conflict between my bad housekeeping skills and my Lutheran farmwife genetic heritage, made manifest. They represent guilt, spontaneously generated from stray popcorn kernels and carrot peelings. If my great-grandmother Ella Dolgner had seen a vision in 1898 of my kitchen floor, she would have fallen over dead on the spot, thereby averting the birth of a descendant who would fail so miserably to wash the dishes.

I hate mice so much.

OK, I'm going to tuck my pants into my socks now. Further plans remain uncertain.

<<|>>

You might have missed...

wah - 2005-03-14 - 9:24 a.m.

Let's review - 2005-03-07 - 7:29 p.m.

- - 2005-03-02 - 1:07 a.m.

yay? - 2005-02-16 - 5:53 p.m.

all apologies - 2005-02-15 - 5:56 p.m.