Last night I could not fall asleep because I was either hearing the sounds of mice in my house or imagining that I was hearing the sounds. Also, I woke up early this morning because I definitely heard the sound of a mouse eating or rustling a book on the television stand near my bed. I tried yelling at it to leave me alone because I thought perhaps the sound would scare it and voicing my frustrations would make me feel better. This accomplished neither. Then I decided I would throw a roll of packing tape at it. As I picked up the packing tape, some CDs which were on my nightstand near the tape fell off onto the ground, scaring the mouse, who ran out of its place near my book and through the space behind my bookshelf. I hope it ran out of my room but I am not sure. I am sure, however, that a mouse has been eating and pooping in the pantry where I keep my baking supplies, and that Patrick found a dead mouse in the kitchen near the sink this morning. There is very little likelihood that the mouse in my room, in the pantry, and the dead mouse in the kitchen are one and the same, but that is my dearest hope.