I‘m excitable.

I know it to be true. It’s one of my personality traits.

Stubborn.

Self-Absorbed.

Excitable.

No, I don’t know why any one puts up with me. But facts are facts and Since I know that I do excite easily I try to underplay things 9 times out of 10. If my first reaction is to jump up and down and do cartwheels, I immediately cross my arms and smirk. See, I’m cool I’m not douchy at all!

But I’m currently in a situation where I’m starting to think a little freaking out is totally in order.

I mentioned about a week ago on this blog that I believed that a rat was in my apartment. I heard very menacing noises coming from my cabinet below the sink of my kitchen, and my roommate’s stash of English muffins(cause thats how she rolls) were ripped through.

My Landlord came by, brought some steal wool, boarded up a hole under the sink and said “Rejoice, for thou art vermin free” and then we all picked up our glasses of ale and filled ourselves with meat. All things were great in the land of Elon.

I sit here now though, about 2:46am, listening to what I’ve decided has to be a squirrel or a gopher or possibly some sort of raccoon lay ravage to whatever we might have put back under our sink. It can’t be just a rat. I hear some body weight being thrown against that door. Whatever it is that lurks beneath the sink is full fledge monster. I’ve been trying to calmly continue working on my various projects on the computer but when you hear something clawing away, trying to gain access to your home, you can’t really write a sketch about a gay clown who loves cheerios.

I think it knows that I know its here.

I’m going to slowly tip-toe to my bedroom now. Close the door, and pray it doesn’t evolve opposable thumbs.

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