So on Monday I went in to work. I usually take Mondays off but I am headed to the Empowered to Connect conference (please tell me if you are going--I want to see you!!) on Thursday so I wanted to get some extra work done. As my coworker Tanya was in the doorway speaking with me, I heard a rustling in the back of my office. I asked her if she heard it but we both just chalked it up to my dream making me paranoid. We talked about dreams for a while, laughed it off, and Tanya went back to the back of the office where she works.
It could not have been ten minutes later that I was writing my "to do" list when I heard something. I looked over my left shoulder and, lo and behold, dark, beady eyes stared at me from the front of a brown gray, small little mouse body.
I jumped up screaming, "There IS a mouse! There IS a mouse!!!!!!" Yes, I was a little overwhelmed. And here's the best part: I am not a squeamish girl. I like snakes. I don't get freaked out by spiders. I used (and accidentally killed one or two) mice for biology lab experiments in college. But there was something completely disarming about a mouse running toward me. Oh my goodness I have never felt like such a baby. Of course the guys from the office come swarming. One actually said, "I legitimately thought you got punched or stabbed." Um, whoops?
I wouldn't go back into my office the rest of the day. I saw Speedy Gonzales two more times but despite our best mouse-catching efforts (which included a plastic tub, a highlighter, a golf club, and Reese Fastbreak as bait) we did not catch him. We did, however, find his little trail (read: poop) all over the student ministry office. Talk about gross!
Because I like you all and I have no shame (and because one of the guys thought he would be funny to turn on his phone camera), I bring you, my reaction to the mouse:
We didn't see him today but I don't think we've seen the last of Speedy. As several people told me: there's never just one mouse. Oh mice, I didn't used to have a phobia. You cured me of that, to be sure.
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