Oh dear Lord, I need a man! And it's
not for sex! It's 'cause I have a mouse in my house!
I made this discovery last night and I
honestly don't think I've ever felt so unhappily single in my life.
There I was at about 11.30pm, cleansing
my face in the bathroom, when the next thing this rodent goes
scurrying past my feet (eeewww!) and behind the toilet.
I screamed and nobody heard
I instantly screamed, although God
knows why. Who was going to acknowledge my horror? Nobody, that's
who!
I live alone. I am a female living
alone. And when a mouse enters the building, I'm sorry but this
female wants a man.
If that makes me sound like a pathetic
and helpless woman, well I don't care. Right now I am pathetic and
helpless and it's all because of this tiny creature who has freaked
me out so much I had to spend the night on the couch.
I've had to do a man's job
Now I've had to go and buy traps and
cheese and put them down in the hope of catching the little bugger.
Never mind all that women's lib stuff, this is a man's job – and
I've had to do it!
Meanwhile, what am I to do if I go home
later and find a mouse's corpse? The thought of having to dispose of
it is making me feel faint.
I may ask Old Flame to help me
I'm still meeting Old Flame this
evening and I'm thinking of asking him for his help. And that doesn't
mean I'm now going to sleep with him by the way. The sex ban still
stands, contrary to some readers' comments!
Not that I haven't gone out of my way
to look my best for later. No need to let standards slip, I say.
I did brave the shower this morning
(all the time praying the mouse wouldn't join me) and then made
myself look as alluring as possible, despite the fact that I only
slept for about three very fitful hours.