(no subject)

Fuck.
Apparently we have a mouse in the kitchen.
Again.
Jorg thinks its the mouse that was downstairs.
I found plastic flakes from my bag of bread where the little bastard had been nibbling. Which means the damned creature was on the countertop.
Jorg is very blase about the whole thing, but I'm grossed out.
So, no more leaving food or dirty dishes lying around on the kitchen counters.
And I'm going to see about getting a trash can with a lid.
Fucking rodents.