Of Mice and Moi

So, I'm coming to terms with this addition of a fourth, freeloading roommate.

His name is Steven, and he is, so far, a hypothetical mouse that may or may not live in my apartment. I hope to God that he stays hypothetical and minds his own business if he is there, so that I don't have to deal with seeing him and being made completely and solidly aware of his presence. 

But I do have confirmation that there are mice in the building, based on this conversation I had not too long ago with my California Cool Classmate/Downstairs neighbor named Micah.

Me: (Clomping down the stairs with trashbags in my hand) MICAH. Do you have a mouse? In your apartment?
Micah: (Slowly emerging from his apartment, startled by the volume of my voice and my presence in general) Uh, yeah. We have two.
Me: Awesome. (Hurls trash bags out onto sidewalk)

So now I have a dilemma. I can either leave the mice alone and hope that I never see them, ever, or I can call the landlord, get some traps, or bring in a cat to release it's scary, mouse repelling, cat smell. The problem with the latter is actually having to see the mouse bodies, or, in the cat situation, facing the possibilty of having a half dead mouse being dropped lovingly at my feet and or on my lap.

HEINOUS. I'm living on edge these days, kids.

But I DO love Grey's Anatomy, so much that it probably could be considered a problem. It's just always so good. I'm always satisfied. Ahem. I also love H&M and Pan Asia at the dining hall, even though Pan Asia has the potential to give the Aramark chefs a heart attack, they were just so intense. Kristina and I witnessed the terrorization of two students who simply did not understand the mechanics of Pan Asia. 

I absolutely need to stop procrastinating, as I have more work to do this weekend than ever before, starting tomorrow with a day of watching Emerson Channel crew and talent auditions, wahoo!