You think I'm exaggerating when I say that I was freaked out and couldn't sleep? Just ask Addled Writer. She witnessed my meltdown (although probably buried it deep, deep in the recesses of her brain) after I saw a mouse scurry along the length of my bed (albeit on the floor) while typing away at a final paper late at night in December of our senior year of college. I remember that night running downstairs crying to the guy working at the front desk--begging for his help--and, when he sympathetically told me there was nothing he could do until business hours, I ended up sleeping in the fetal position on the living room sofa. I have no idea what grade I ended up getting on that paper, but it couldn't have been good.
I seriously remained jumpy for the rest of the academic year. Every time AW or our other roommate would, say, jingle keys or, say, open a squeaky cabinet, I'd do a vertical leap into the air. Anyway, you get the idea. Fast forward, then, to a few weeks ago, and you have a similar situation. I'm old enough to not be so panicked (that senior-year run-in was my first ever with a rodent in my residence, so the drama was high), but that still doesn't mean that I was happy about having a freeloading mouse rummaging through my stuff.
However, I refused to take my landlord's approach, which involved spending 30 seconds in my apartment laying down glue traps. I'm not killing the poor little mouse just because he's not paying rent. As I'd mentioned in my last post, I'm quite convinced that the mouse was getting into my apartment through my crappy heating unit, part of which is falling apart. My landlord seemed to think otherwise--hence his half-assed efforts to appease me. I decided to take matters into my own hands and went to the hardware store, where I purchased several yards' worth of flexible wire mesh and two boxes of tacks. With that, I thought, I can cover up the offending heating unit and keep the little mouse (and any of his friends) from returning. (Yes, I know that, in theory, I could also end up trapping the little guy in my apartment, but I was willing to take that chance.)
It took some time to finally get off my ass and do this, mostly because I wanted to do it in the light of day, and I've scarcely been in my apartment during daylight hours. But earlier yesterday I arranged my tools:
Note, if you will, my sophisticated means of measurement: I used my Snapfish folder to determine the width of each cut. Very scientific. Note, too, the bad-ass wire cutters I bought from Target yesterday morning:
I want to use them on everything! I fear, though, I'll get carried away with their awesome cutting power and will accidentally lop off an appendage. Here I am effortlessly cutting the wire with them:
Cool!! And here, finally, is the result:
It worked like a charm! Better than I'd hoped, actually, apart from the obvious scratching of the paint above the unit. I don't care, though--I'd rather have scratched paint than a rodent for a roommate.
It's amazing how much my mood has improved since I did this. I walk around my apartment with reckless abandon now, sashaying past the once-offending heating unit without fear of a violent mouse attack. It's so cool.
