When I was little I loved the movie Mouse Hunt. I enjoyed watching the little critter outsmart those two buttheads but after last night I've gotta say I feel their pain.
Last evening I was reading in my room when I heard this:
Skirtcha-skirtcha-skir
It sounded to me like pebbles or pine cones rolling down the roof but was coming from directly above me not from outside.
Great, I thought. A mouse.
(In all likelihood it was probably a rat but for the sake of the "Mouse Hunt" reference I've already made I will continue to refer to him or her as a mouse.) I didn't worry about it too much since animals don't stay in the house long (lucky them) and figured I was exhausted enough to go to bed sound or no sound.
I was wrong.
Skirtcha-skirtcha-skirtcha
Skirtcha-skirtcha-skir
Whatever, I thought. I'll be asleep soon.
I was not and the next thing I knew I was standing up and slapping on my light. Naked, tired, and a little bit wobbly from my medication kicking in I marched to the corner of my room and snatched up my cane. I returned to my bed, stood up on it, flipped the cane and proceeded to beat the shit out of the ceiling.
This seemed to work some. The sounded quieted and there were greater intervals in between it stopping and starting again. I appreciated this but it was still Fucking Annoying so I did what I should have done in the first place: I snatched my headphones from their perch, slammed them on my head, and blasted music over the unrelenting sound until I finally dropped off.
* * *
The next morning found me lying in bed listening once more to that blasted noise.
Skirtcha-skirtcha
Skirtcha-skirtcha-skuh
By this point I had resigned myself to a life with a noisy all night neighbor and was trying to bring my mind around to some sort of zen-like state but wasn't having much luck.
I sighed, flopping over onto my back and as I did so I heard the noise again at the exact moment I saw one of my posters move slightly.
I lie there staring up at the wall.
Skirtcha-skirtcha, my poster fluttered.
I blinked.
Skirtcha-skuh, it fluttered again.
I blinked again.
I sat up, tipped my fan down, and waited expectantly.
.............................
No noise.
Turns out my "mouse" was actually the breeze from my fan getting behind my posters and loosening them causing them to flutter against the wall and make the scrabbling noise. The slopped angle of my wall tricked me into thinking the sound was coming from the attic.
I flopped back in bed and listened to the blessed silence. I smiled feeling--to my surprise--not a trace of the embarrassment I probably should have been feeling. I think that's because there is so little in my life I have control over that being able to finally solve a problem regardless of how menial brought me more relief than you can possibly know and that, after the past few miserable days, felt fucking good.
-Erin, Mouse Hunter
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