The owls are not what they seem.

I am not what people would consider a calm person. Quite the opposite. I can feign calm. But really its just masked neuroticism. It's not a cute neuroticism either. I came face to face with this last night when in quite plain sight, right in front of me (who was curled on my couch engaged in a horribly awesome TNT drama fest movie marathon) dashed...a mouse. I screamed. I wish I was joking. I screamed and I jumped to the top of my couch. Where I remained perched while I considered the situation. I've been rocketed, I've been mortared, but I was rendered into the depths of pathos....by a mouse. This was last night. I got no sleep. When I say no sleep. I mean no sleep. I had nightmares in the wee hours. But no sleep. Now I'm home from work. And I've set two mouse traps. The kind the kill behind closed doors. And I don't want to kill the mouse. I even named him Little Man after he took off so bravely and quickly across the floor. I don't want him to die. We had a mouse in Baghdad in my office. We called him Supermouse. He was the highlight of the day. I don't hate mice. But I'm apparently terrified of one in my house. I had to make a gin and tonic tonight just to calm down after I set the traps. Which went off while I set them and I screamed again. I looked for new apartments today because frankly if Little Man doesn't leave I'll have to.