March 12th, 2007
OK, I know my blogging frequency has approached zero over the last few months. Sorry about that. I really am. I’ve actually had a number of things lately that I thoroughly intended to make blog posts. My 1 year anniversary party, ordering my new car, a love affair with Of Montreal and the The Shins’ new album. I’m probably even forgetting things.
The funny thing is, as much as I’ve wanted to write about any ONE of those things, what actually got me typing was the most bizarre thing.
I woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. Not a regular occurrence, but given the amount of water I usually drink not unheard of. Using my patented and perfected ‘unhappy mole in the headlights‘ squint I turn on the lights. I’m working hard to let as little light as possible into my delicate pupils but I’m certain I see something scurry.
I don’t care what it is, but nothing good “scurries.” It just doesn’t.
My many years of man-training have taught me to quickly grab a wad of toilet paper and squish any bathroom trespassers. It’s instinctual. It doesn’t matter that I can’t see what I’m going for. I’m like a ninja with a wad of Charmin. I pounce and it oozes. Boy, does it ooze. A lot.
I’m still too blind to see much but I know that wasn’t a crunchy cockroach or a collapsing spider. No, this was bigger. Much bigger. And gooey. It had mass and density. I’m growing more and more certain that I’ve just squashed a mouse with 5 squares of 2-ply softness. Oh, god.
I’m finally adjusting to the light and I’m revising my animal classification. Slowly. There are no yellow rats I’m familiar with. Yeah, it’s not a mouse. I killed a peep.