K is for Keep Away!

It’s still early in the day as I begin to write, but I fear the pattern for the day is already set. All I can think of are song lyrics, like “Don’t rain on my parade,” “Don’t let the sun go down on me,” and “Don’t let the rain come down.”

Yeah, it’s been a rough morning. Not really rain, mind you. It’s actually sunny and 65 degrees outside, and after the brutal winter we had, I’m not complaining about that at all. But things did not get off to an auspicious start.

Here’s how my day began. I was woken up by something about 4:30 a.m. I lay in bed and listened, and after a while, heard it again. It was a scuffling, gnawing, creepy-whispery sound. Well, here in New Hampshire, virtually every house has mice, and if you don’t, you will soon! Mostly we coexist in peace, as long as they stay in the walls or under the house, but not out in my rooms. Or, heaven forbid, in the food! So when I heard that sound, I figured it was just a mouse. I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.

No such luck. The noise stopped when I banged on the wall or shouted, but resumed as soon as I was quiet. I got angry, turned on the light, marched over to where the noise was coming from, and whacked all around the area with a ruler. I didn’t know my husband was still at home, so was surprised to see him charging up the stairs, wondering what all the ruckus was. :-D

After he left, it was quiet for…fifteen minutes. Then started again. To me, it sounded like it was in the wastebasket, not in the wall. Finally, I put on the lamp again, brought the wastebasket into the light and started going through it.

There, inside an empty Cheezit bag, was a mouse, trying his best to be still in the vain hope he wouldn’t be discovered. I threw on a robe, marched downstairs with the bag in hand, opened the door and tossed him out onto the lawn. “Great,” I thought. “At least I can sleep now. I’ll think about the consequences of that mouse in the house later.”

It was 5 a.m. by then. I had just dropped off to sleep when my cell phone started chiming. There’s something wrong with the phone or the cord or the battery (or my karma) as it won’t recharge, no matter what I do. I’ve tried a new battery, a new cord, the USB port on my computer or the AC outlet, to no avail. Tech support delighted in telling me that if only my phone were still under warranty, they could send me a new charger; but since it’s not, and since getting it repaired would probably cost more than the phone was worth, I should probably get a new phone. <eye roll> Thanks, I’d never have thought of that.

In a last ditch effort to fix it, I’m going to see if the car charger works. You never know.

And if it DOES work, I’m going to celebrate with a big, fat…NAP!