Seriously. Today I have to work for 10 hours, study for an upcoming exam for 3 hours, and kill a stray mouse that woke me up from a sound sleep last night. I want to call up Mr. Wonderful and chat for an hour, then take a nap. I have to pay my bills. I want to go to the mall and buy something cute or sultry to wear the next time he is in town from California. I have to be responsible. I want to party.
I wrote a blog about it, but apparently forgot to save it, as it's not been posted. Not all is lost, however... I do recall telling my boyfriend that I am cured from eating in in my room(on principle, he hates people who eat in bed) because I watched a little mousie (about 4 inches too long for my taste) tow away a little Kraft Single's Wrapper from my midnight snack last night at about 0100.
Mice are the grossest thing that exist in common domesticated households. Besides rotting produce, that is. That little rat-b@$7@rd was peaking at me, taunting, and otherwise rabel-rousing in my presence. He knew that I knew that he knew I was watching him watch me! The nerve!
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