I’m trying to think of things to write about other than this unpleasantness, but nothing comes to mind.

There’s a goddamned mouse (mice?) taking up residence under or in the couch. I can hear it. The cats know it’s there. Makes me want to vomit.

I have pest services coming in, but not until next Wednesday. I don’t know if I can deal with this for a whole week. I can literally hear it scratching, gnawing, squeaking back there.

I knew this would happen. I said this would happen. And now, voila! It’s happened.

I goddamned hate it when I’m right.

I will do like I always do and clean the counters, stovetop, sweep and mop the floor. But it’ll be disgusting again in three days. It’s the world’s biggest exercise in futility.

I’m supposed to be recovering. I don’t know if heavy housework is okay. But I don’t really have a choice.

I never ever thought about these things growing up. I never imagined living in chaos or being chronically underemployed my entire adult life. I always dreamed of having a clean and organized home (why wouldn’t I?) and a well-paying job out of college.

Never, not for one second, did I ever imagine that crisis would be the norm for me when I grew up, too. College was my ticket to a better life.

So then, what happened?

I am really frustrated and upset right now.

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