…Show a woman a mouse.

So I’m sitting on the floor last night, reading for torts, and minding my own business when I decide to refill my water bottle. Easy enough, right? WRONG. As I approached my kitchen area, what do I see scurrying along on my countertop? You’ve probably guessed by now. I let out a classically girly SCREAM (none of my neighbors came to my aid, by the way) and ran around the corner and cowered in the mini-hallway between my sleeping alcove and the bathroom.

And then I was worthless for the next four hours while I proceeded to lose. my. shit.

I went through the following stages:

Stage One: Woe.

I’m not too proud to admit I cried.

Stage Two: Fear.

Every little sound made me jump out of my skin. Would I be able to sleep? What if it came back and crawled on me? Should I go stay at Rachel’s? Should I sleep with the lights on? Would that even keep them away?

Stage Three: Panic.

Obviously nothing else was going to get done that night. I only had two days until my memo was due and I hadn’t even started writing it! And I still needed to read for civ pro and contracts! I’m going to fall so far behind! I was supposed to get going on my outlines this weekend but now I’m going to have to spend it getting all caught up! Classes are almost over! I’m going to fail all my finals and get kicked out of school!

Stage Four: Ranting.

I lamented to my friends via Gchat. They were very sympathetic. I lamented to my parents. They were not sympathetic. They laughed at me. I was offended.

Stage Five: Insanity.

I checked out the ASPCA’s website and looked into cat adoption. I am not a cat person.

Stage Six: War!

I Googled the most deadly and violent mouse traps in existence.

Stage Seven: Reason.

I researched humane solutions to mouse problems. (Sidebar: Let’s be clear about one thing. I could not care less about being humane for the mouse’s benefit. As far as I’m concerned, the only good mouse is a dead mouse. I’d be snapping necks left and right if I thought it humanly possible for me to deal with the corpses myself. But that is far, far, FAR beyond my capacity for All Things Disgusting. So it happens to be to the mouse’s benefit, quite by accident. Yeah, bring it, PETA!) I read some testimonials attesting to the use of peppermint oil-soaked cotton balls placed strategically around the house and vowed to pick up the supplies in the morning.

So this morning after torts I went down to the new upper west side Whole Foods and found a very small, very expensive bottle of 100% pure peppermint oil. The dollar store had small plastic cups (like the kind you use for brushing your teeth) and cotton balls. Once home, I laid out my arsenal and began cutting the tops off the cups so I was left with smaller versions. I soaked the cotton balls in the peppermint oil and placed one into each half-cup. I lost count of how many I did, but I used up the entire bottle of oil. These cups now sit in strategic locations all around the kitchen area.

Does anyone else have experience using this method of mouse repellent? (If it doesn’t work, please lie to me. Thanks.)

So it’s come to this. I live in an apartment that reeks of candy cane.

As my mom put it, “Welcome to New York.”

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