This from a witty SWWAN member named Perri who’s six months along in her single-mother, poor-sleep pregnancy and who found that her new condo was previously (and still) occupied by an extensive family of mice:
“Ok, I was so desperately tired yesterday again I thought I would die. I struggled till 10, took some Tylenol and went to bed. Fell asleep immediately. By 2 am I was awake, 2:30 I got up, took a TYLENOL PM even, drank some water and laid down again. I didn’t really sleep again. Then I got up this morning to find that my resident mouse had staggered into the middle of my kitchen floor in his death throes and died, thus giving me the equivalent of a little mouse middle finger.
Apparently they are smart enough to avoid every trap made but not smart enough not to eat the poison I put out. BUT, by everyone’s account–including the poison maker’s–they’re supposed to go home to die, not make political statements by dying in the middle of one’s kitchen floor.
I hope he was the ballsy one, because now I am scared to death that his mouse friends are going to follow his example. And if they die in the open when I’m not there and my children [her two big dogs] get to them, they’ll be poisoned! Oy. But, I have made a lot of progress on my registry, I did a lot yesterday afternoon because I was too tired to work.
I guess the secret is that I needs lots of three hour naps instead of trying to sleep in one big block of time.”
Now that’s telling it like it is.