I’m still completely pleased with my new flat. It is delightfully close to work and I don’t have to share the bathroom with anyone. This means that I don’t have to waste hours of my life each day underground on a train, and it also means that I can come home and take off my trousers before I sit in front of Futurama to eat dinner. Man, I hate trousers!*
Now, although I’m very happy with the new place, it doesn’t mean that it is perfect. Far from it. And in fact, each day that passes something else goes wrong.
When I moved in, I knew there were a few things that I would have to work on. Like the smell. It smells musty in there, because it is damp. But if Korean mold didn’t get the best of me, pansy-ass English mold certainly won’t. It also needs to be painted. Badly. And I will do that as soon as I have a paycheque that isn’t spent before I even get it in my bank. I also have to buy shelves and some under-the-bed drawers to sort out my goods. And of course, I had to clean. But I knew all that.
The first suprise was that the heat is absolute rubbish. It gets really, really cold in there. Freezing cold. They are supposed to be looking at it, but I haven’t seen an improvement yet. I’m alright with that though, seeing as how it is spring now and the weather is improving. I’ll flip out next November if it isn’t better by then.
And then the washing machine is also crap. But it and I have an understanding now and I’ve worked it out (mostly).
Then I found out that the door handle of the inner door is broken. Again, not too big a deal. Until the night I accidently shut it and couldn’t open it again. Good thing I’m partially MacGyver or I may have been trapped in there forever. As it was, I pinched my finger during my panic attack (I have a thing about locked doors and being trapped in rooms) and it hurt a lot. But now I have the door figured out (like the washing machine, it isn’t fixed, but I can live with a work-around).
And then the ants came.
I hate ants. HATE THEM. They are so gross and I never understand why they come to my house as I never have any food for them. They grossed me out for a long time (especially since my bed is in my kitchen – ew ew ew – the thought of ants in my bed is the stuff nightmares are made of) but I got some poison and kicked their asses en masse (instead of either squirting small mobs of them with window cleaner or squishing them individually whilst yelling threats to their families). I have only seen one or two since, and I think I can stay on top of the ant menance and have nothing to worry about.
And then on Friday night the mouse thing happened.
I got home early from the pub with Subway in hand (I missed dinner earlier). I ate Subway and left the bag on the floor instead of putting it away immediately. I’m sort of happy I did, because that is how I figured out that there are mice in the place.
I climbed into bed and put out the light. And I heard the weirdest noise… it sounded like either the Subway bag had come to life or that I had a bloody bigger ant problem than I first suspected. So I put on my bedside light and there was a wee mouse there, looking at me. I looked at him, raised one eyebrow, and he ran off behind the fridge.
Here’s where it gets strange: I just turned of the light and tried to go back to sleep. No real reaction at all. You would think that I would flip out as a mouse is considerably larger than an ant (although, thankfully, there was only one mouse and not hundreds as there are with ants. Ew! Hundreds of mice!) but I didn’t really care. He made his point, I made mine, things were good with the world.
But then the little bastard came back. Cheeky wee sod! So I turned the light back on, sighed, and got out of bed. First things first, I put the Subway bag in the garbage. The mouse had ran behind the fridge again but I’ve cleaned back there and there isn’t a mouse hole. I thought he was just trying to trick me into going back to bed. I moved the fridge a bit, the mouse sighed and ran away into the bathroom.
All I could think was, "Stupid mouse… have you never seen a horror movie??"
So I followed him into the bathroom, wondering if I could corner him and catch him in something. I didn’t want to hurt him… he was pretty cute. So I went into the bathroom, about to explain to him how horror movies work and how running into the bathroom a la The Shining was not going to save his wee mouse ass… and he was nowhere to be found!
Outsmarted by a mouse! Curses!
Turns out that there is a sizable hole in the floor behind the sink to allow the pipe through – I think that’s how he gained access. I’m just going to stop it up with something and that should take care of that. Until then, I’m really going to watch where I’m stepping when I get out of bed in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom…
* I used to say "pants", but "pants" here means "underpants" and really, that’s not the visual I’m working for here…