excuse me while i freak the heck out

I know I promised you guys a post all about our trip but that's not going to happen tonight because I'm too exhausted to deal with resizing and uploading pictures. It's been one of those days. Well, two days actually. Thing are just crazy and only getting more ridiculous by the second. I guess it's God's way of bringing me back to reality after our whirlwind 18 day "vacation", and boy is he doing a good job of bringing me back.

I mean, really, there's no bigger reality check than having your bank card denied at the Dollar Store. The DOLLAR STORE, people! For freaking real. My card was denied yesterday. It's not like I was shopping at Nordstroms and buying a $400 dress. No, I was buying napkins and paper plates. Now that is borderline white trash right there. Heck, I'll own it. It is white trash. In fact, I think that's the most white trash thing that has ever happened to me, and I've had a lot of WT moments.

It wouldn't have been so bad if my lack of funds didn't interrupt the cigarette break of the manager of the store, and there wasn't a line of 6 people behind me... because apparently the Dollar Store can't afford to pay more than 2 people to work at any given time. The girl who was checking me out was really nice and blamed the computer for my card not working. After the third time swiping it through, she called the manager who bumbled over all angry and stuff, blowing smoke as she came (literally) and then loudly and quickly announced that it wasn't working because my card was denied, not because the computer was jacked up. And I was like, "I'm sorry, come again?" And she sighed, stomped her foot and put her hand on her hip and was all, "Hun, it means your card has no money on it." Oh HECK no, lady. First of all, no one gets to call me "Hun" and second, why do you have to say it so loudly and mean like? I half expected sirens to go off and bars to slam down on the windows because we needed even more attention drawn to the fact that I was apparently broke. So then I had to humble myself and do the embarrassing "try this card" thing, praying the whole time that it wouldn't work either so I could prove it was the computer that was messed up and not because I don't know how to balance my checkbook. But the second card worked, dang it, and I had to do the walk of shame out of there. (To my credit, my card was denied because of a bank transfer error so it really wasn't my fault, but still...)

And if that wasn't white trash enough, now I'm trying to kill a mouse that has decided to take up residence in my room. I swear it was not there yesterday and it better not have been there last night although I can't be sure. Ugh! The thought of it crawling around all night while we were sleeping makes me want to vomit. CB and I are sleeping in another room tonight for sure. It is SO disgusting. All of the germs and disease and general nastiness... gross Gross GROSS! I had to totally dismantle my room so I could clean every square inch, including the closet which is piled high with stuff from 1992, I'm sure, because there is no way I will ever be able to sleep in there again unless it's completely sanitized. But as I was in the process of cleaning, my dad told me to stop so the mouse would feel more comfortable and go back to it's secret place and happen upon a trap along the way. Yes, because that is what we want. A mouse to feel comfortable. So now there is junk everywhere and I'm freaking out about every little noise I hear because I know it's trying to eat my Uggs and my favorite dress. I just know it.

I know mice are a byproduct of country living, no matter how clean you are, but that is one thing I can't get used to. We need to stop feeding Blanca the black cat so she will actually do her job and get to them before I have to. Why couldn't it have come last week when my husband was still here? He could have done his Army thing and camped out all stealth like and caught the it with his bare hands or whatever it is he does to capture mice. I don't know what he does, actually. I don't pay attention because dealing with varmint is his domain, not mine. I just want to know when it's dead and gone. I swear, if the thing doesn't take the peanut butter bait and is not in the trap by the morning, I'm taking a blowtorch to the walls... you think I'm kidding?