Yesterday I started to write a post about how consumed with negative thoughts I’ve been. I feel like I can’t get my mind to shut down; instead, it circles around little details or big worries over and over again. I’ve had a lot on my mind, and I can’t seem to let go. I’ve been so consumed that I can’t fall asleep… and when I finally do, I dream about these things I can’t get out of my mind.
I decided the post was turning into a giant complaint about all of my worries and that I didn’t want to share it. You know it must have been bad – it’s not like I’m known for keeping private thoughts to myself.
It’s been cold and dark and drizzly here, which doesn’t help when I’m in a down mood. I spent the evening last night at home curled up on the couch under a warm blanket and feeling a bit sorry for myself. I was preparing myself for another sleepless night and for another cruddy day today.
And then it happened – something that shook those sorry-for-myself feelings out of my mind: A healthy dose of laughter!
The story requires a bit of set-up. (Well, it does for me, anyway. I am NOT a woman of few words.) So, for the past few weeks we’ve had a friendly yet annoying mouse living in our kitchen. I don’t have anything against mice when they are outside of my house, but I don’t like it when they nibble our bread, chew through bags of rice and sugar in the pantry, and poop all over the place. (Seriously, do mice poop constantly?) We’ve tried some humane methods to trap the mouse without any luck. This past weekend, Craig spent at least 90 minutes cleaning out the pantry cabinet, pulling out the stove, and emptying out the cabinet under the sink to thoroughly clean. He also sprayed some of that foam insulation stuff into various holes in the kitchen that we thought the mouse was using to get in and out and through the cabinets. We even bought some new canisters for several items in the pantry (I am loving these so far) and a breadbox for the countertop to protect our food and to limit the mouse’s food supply.
The mouse is perfectly happy in the house, though, and is still with us. I think the new foam stuff is probably keeping him IN the house at this point. Since his travel routes have been limited, we’ve actually been seeing him this week, scampering across the counters and scurrying into gaps behind the stove and so on. We just can’t seem to get him OUT of the house. (The dogs are oblivious, by the way, and totally unhelpful. I need to borrow a cat!)
So, anyway, last night I saw the mouse scamper into the plastic bag holder/dispenser thing we have stuck to the side of the refrigerator. I told Craig the mouse was in there and we started to pull the plastic bags out. (I was using salad tongs to do this – this alone should give you an interesting mental image. I didn’t want to reach my hand in and actually touch the mouse, but I wanted to pull the bags out.) I was trying to think of a way to capture the mouse – since we knew he was in there – but Craig was safely 3-4 feet behind me and far away from the action. Sure enough, at one point the mouse bolted out of the container. And Craig shrieked like a scared little girl! It was the funniest thing I’ve seen/heard in ages, I swear. A grown 30-something man jumping and screaming in a high-pitched squeal about a tiny little mouse.
I laughed and laughed and laughed. I laughed so hard I was in tears and I started to make those little high-pitched wheezing sounds because I was not getting enough air. I laughed myself to sleep – kicking all of those not-so-great thoughts away. And I slept wonderfully.
I woke up laughing this morning. I’m laughing as I write this now. Craig has been laughing, too. (This is a good thing since I’ve already shared the story on FB, and now here, for the whole world to see.) He realizes that his reaction was pretty ridiculous!
I have to say, laughter truly is the best medicine.
(Oh yeah. We still have the mouse in our kitchen. Clearly I’m on my own in catching it!)