An early morning yeugh...

Hello, it's me again!

Okay, I know I've been really remiss in my posting lately, but let me just say this: I'm tired. I mean, really, crazy, wicked tired. I mean, more tired than I can ever remember being, and it's lasted two, maybe three weeks straight. That's not an excuse, that's a reason.

So finally something shook me out of my turpor. And so here comes the following story.

This morning, when I put on my left boot, I noticed that my sock felt weird. Kind of like it had twisted under my foot. Since I was already running late, I figured, what the hell, I'll fix it when I get to work. Out I go to the car.

Sitting in the car, my sock starts to feel like it's pulling tight over my toes, as though it's ripping. Now, granted, with Cosmo out of town, I've been letting a few things go (Mostly laundry), but not to the degree that my toenails would rip through socks, or anything. So I decide to fix my sock on the way to work.

I pull off my boot, and my sock is fine. But my boot feels weird, so I shake it. And, no word of a lie - This would be where the early morning yeugh comes in - A mouse comes tumbling out of the boot and runs across the floor of the car.

I open the door and jump out, hopping on one high-heeled foot, holding my boot and screaming like a small child. A small child who just walked around for ten minutes with a mouse in her boot. All very glamourous, this.

My mother, laughing, reaches down, grabs the mouse and tosses him out of the car. Laughing. My mother's a piece of work. Of course, she's mostly trying to keep me from jumping to my instincts: A raucous bout of tears, followed closely by a riotous bout of vomiting. Thankfully, my mother's smarter than me and cooler heads prevailed, but most of the day I felt like something was crawling around in my left boot, and then I felt a little nauseous.

All this makes me wonder: How does a fairy who can put on a boot with a mouse cross the street without getting hit by cars, busses, mice, whatever. My only excuse is that... Well, I don't have an excuse.

As for the mouse, I'm pretty sure I scared it to death, and for that I feel beyond terrible. I'm the kind of person who, rather than kill it, will happily take a spider outside and let it free. Mice are much cuter than spiders.

I've learned, though. Like people who live in dangerous hot countries, I'm going to shake everything out before I put it on or get into it. It's already started, this evening when I returned home, my Eeyore slippers got fiercly flipped, turned and banged on the floor. Joyfully they were safe.

Little mouse, wherever you are, I hope you've made it back into your hole. Please stay away from my smelly boots. A gurl's stinky feet are her very own business...