I Might Be Able To Sleep Now

I ran 4.97 miles in 45 minutes. I even had to walk 0.33 miles. I have renewed hope that I might be able to finish my race in something somewhat, maybe close to my goal. But I’m trying not to get my hopes up.

Today’s Exploit:

The mouse, the one that has been haunting my nights and making it even harder than usual to fall asleep, and making sure that I wake up even more than normal, has been caught.

Finally.

I’m told it was taken outside. 

I’m guessing it was on a sticky trap and will slowly die of thirst, but I’m going to pretend that it was a snappy trap and it had a quick clean death. Even with the amount of trauma that the monster caused me, I don’t really want it to suffer. 

Naturally the timing of this event is just so that, if I have to stay tonight, tonight will be my last night. And therefore it will not be any easier to sleep because I’ll be excited about going home. 

Gah.

Mice Are No Longer Friends

I have less than 3 weeks until I kill myself in a most torturous manner. 26.2 miles of hopefully not exceptionally hot Texas weather. My goal is 4 hours, I’m pretty sure I’m not going to make it, but I plan on finishing anyway. Then I’ll fall over and twitch a bit before I expire.

Today’s Exploit:

I was okay with the mouse that ran around the kitchen, and not overly concerned about the mousetrap wars that followed.

I was also okay with the two that played under the table while I washed dishes, only running away when I had to cross their path to get to the bedroom. And I was a bit disgusted with the fact that they chewed through one of my headphones, but it was the replaceable part. 

I laughed at George the other day when one ran from the fridge to the recliner and he wouldn’t put his feet on the floor until he had to go outside. 

That all changed last night.

I was in bed trying to relax my brain enough to go to sleep, a nightly trial. Then I heard scratching. When I looked nothing moved and I attributed it to my imagination, which tends to go wild at bedtime. I heard it again, and was met with the same results when I looked for the source. I re-situated myself so that I could see off the bed if I heard another noise, and proceeded to fight the random flight of my thoughts.

Suddenly I felt a tickling on my head. One of those creepy feelings that moves along a line, and you’re sure it’s a bug, but it turns out to be your imagination when you try to brush it away.

I took a deep breath and made myself stay still and try to relax. 

That was when I felt something moving down my side.

I sat up as fast as I could.

The mouse ran the length of the bed and disappeared.

I made a noise something along the lines of “Gaaah-rrrraaaaawwwweeerrr” (which translates to something along the lines of: BLOODY HELL, THERE’S A MOUSE IN MY BED AND THAT IS DEFINITELY NOT SOME PLACE THAT A MOUSE SHOULD BE! GET OFF! GET OFF! GET OFF!) and jumped up.

Naturally by then the mouse had vanished completely, and did not appear to be in any of my bags or under the bed or hiding in the A/C closet. I searched each of these places at least 3 times before I retired to the living room.

I proceeded to sit on the couch, curled as small as I could get, and watch for the mouse for the next hour.  

I also spent this time trying to convince myself that I really needed to get some sleep, and the mouse only touched the outside of the sleeping bag. And maybe my pillow.

Probably my pillow.

I searched the room another 3 times, and my sheets 7 times.

I finally did make myself get back in bed, using a tiny corner of my pillow that I knew no mouse feet had touched.

I got an astounding 2.1 hours of sleep between trying to get comfortable, trying to make myself relax and feeling phantom mice feed EVERYWHERE.

Mice are no longer something I can see without thinking they were in my bed, and probably eating my food while I washed my hands. 

I was ok with traps before, but now I think we need about 17 in each crevice.