The scratching sounds started about four days ago. Having suffered numerous sleepless nights due to a mouse in my ceiling last winter, the scratch scratch scratch immediately sent my stomach spinning. Again? Why me?
Last time, I spent two weeks trying to encourage my unwanted roommate to leave by banging on the ceiling and using a noise-emitting app to no avail. Finally, I resorted to rat poison. I had to get some sleep, and that did the trick. Because it was winter, if there was a carcass in the ceiling, it didn’t smell.
The new offender wasn’t in the ceiling. It was in the wall. Again, I tried to deter it by banging on the wall when I heard it running around. Now it was summer, so killing it in the wall just wouldn’t do. Harmony had warned me against that the first time around, as something had died in her walls years ago, and the scent was putrid.
The scratching went on for days, but yesterday was different. There was scratching, and then a bang, and then a noise like something falling from the center of the wall to the bottom. I could only assume whatever it was had learned the hard way that live power cords were not the best materials to steal for a nest.
The day went on, and I didn’t think much about it, but then my dead little friend sent a reminder. A pungent one. Hoping to blame Bill, I washed everything associated with him, but it quickly became apparent the small was not his fault. I conferred with my neighbors and found out that not only did their rooms also stink but Agustina’s one outlet had been fried. A coincidence? Maybe not.
The bottom line is there is definitely a dead thing in my wall and no easy way to extract it. As I type, my nostrils are being assaulted with the reeking scent of death. The smell is so bad that I am thinking about charging a fee for people to visit my room for a transcendental experience. You will leave a) feeling high or b) feeling much better about your life compared to mine. Either way, it’s worth the money!
Last night I almost slept outside. The mosquitoes kept me in, but I’m still seriously considering what’s worse: bug bites or death smell. My body is starting to react to the smell already, as I’m feeling congested. Thank goodness! Close those nostrils up!
Anyway, feel good. Your life is probably better than mine right now, and it’s definitely better than the poor animal that moved into the wrong neighborhood.