Mice

Around 1am I was awakened by the sound of mice. Hoping it was simple paranoia left over from dinner, I tried to ingore the sounds of the little creatures and go back to sleep. But I couldn't. The sounds of squeaking, nibbling, and scurrying were too close for comfort. Typically sharing a toom with little critters doesn't bother me too much, so long as there is a bed net to provide a physical barrier between me and my roommates. But last night, I didn't have the comfort of a bednet to provide speraration. I curled up tight, tucked inside my sleep sheet, turned on some music and tried desperately not to think of the mice. And then one ran across my head. I screamed so loud that I could hear the people begin to stir in the next room over. I jumped out of bed, switched on the lights, and stood frozen, my eyes fixed on the bed, scanning the floorboards for the devious little mouse. Not sure what to do, I stood there, contemplating my options. I needed to change rooms. I quickly packed up my things, careful not to find a mouse tucked in my purse or hidden in a pocket of my bag, when I noticed my contact solution had somehow moved from the shelf by the side of the bed all the way to the other side of the room. Damn mice.

The man at the front desk was understanding of the situation, although I don't think he really understood that mice were the problem, not mosquitos. He moved me across the hall to room 107, gave me a mosquito coil, fresh sheets, and some air freshener, and sent me on my way. I slept like a baby for the next 4 hours until my alarm told me it was time to catch the bus.