So this morning I went to get a trash bag under the sink and then I saw them – mouse droppings! Immediately my heart sank. I can’t do this shit again, like I seriously can’t. Last time I noticed mouse droppings, it was already too late. And the only reason why I noticed them was because I had so many mice in my apartment that they couldn’t hide any more, and so they became bold and just took over my apartment. I ended up having to break my lease and move from Washington Heights to Brooklyn. It was not fun and it was not cheap. It was not an experience I wanted to relive.

And yet here I am, Eva vs. the mice part two. I figured I was lucky because I haven’t actually seen any mice. I might have heard them – but this was after I watched Paranormal Activity 2 (I know, I know, why in the world do I keep doing things like that to myself?) the other day and was just scared and thought I saw things moving and kept hearing stuff, so it’s very possible that it could have just been my imagination.

Anyway, I called my mom first. I knew she’d have the appropriate reaction that I needed. Her response, “You’re bummed, huh?” Uhm, yeah. She was more chill about it than I was. I called the super and he said he’d send someone. About an hour later a guy comes with the caulk. I laughed and told him he’d need more than that. Oh I haven’t mentioned there’s a gaping hold under my sink that any medium size animal could fit under and I was convinced the mice were coming through there. It didn’t help that whoever lived her before me and tried to stuff the hole with plastic bags.

So my not super came through, confirmed they were mouse droppings, cleaned them up (god bless him) and then tackled the hole. In the end, the mice weren’t coming from there, they were coming from a hole by the sink. He plugged that bad boy up and said he would talk to the super about fixing the big hole under the sink. I felt better.

Later I realized that he hadn’t clean all the mouse poop, so I swept up the rest. It was hard, which makes me think they hadn’t been there recently, although I swear there was no mouse droppings when I moved in last month.

For now I feel confident that no mice are running around at night. It will be nice to sleep well. But the thought that this situation might be like my Washington Heights life scared me so bad. It also jarred my sense of self-reliance. Of course as soon as I’m by myself everything falls apart and I can’t handle it and I have to move again. I’m glad this time I didn’t try to fix everything on my own. Asking for help right away definitely made this experience a lot less stressful than it could have been ended with a solution I would not have thought of.

I normally hate asking for help, even when helping is someone’s job (a la the super) but I’m glad I sucked it up and did what I had to do. Growing up, meh, it’s not always fun. But at least this time I beat the mice and got to keep my apartment.

e.