Miceless!

This is an update on the mice situation, for those just tuning in. (see this old post for the background story on that)

So after about a week of living with Rexy, our relationship went sour. He was scratching on all the wood in my room and chewing up things in my drawers, it was nasty. Needless to say, he'd overstayed his welcome. I, by some gift from God, didn't have to work that weekend, so I planned to clean my room. Friday night was an away football game and I had no plans, but I ended up spending my day on Facebook. Saturday, I was supposed to go to a paintball party with my Travel Camp buddies, but I slept until about 1. When I finally woke up, Dad said he would let me have some money to go shopping (I'm not a spoiled brat. This is the first time that's happened in quite a while. Just sayin'.) so we went to Grand Island for the evening. Sunday rolls around and I'm not wanting to do anything. I lounged around in my sweatpants all morning (it was daylight savings time weekend, so I was up relatively early) before I finally decided that it was time to clean.

I don't clean my room very often, and here's why. I started out just throwing everything that wasn't grossly dirty onto my bed, like usual. I then picked up everything off of my floor and found a place for it. I filled four shopping bags full of other shopping bags (the plastic ones. Do you know how many bags you can fit inside of another bag? A lot.) and another four or five shopping bags full of trash. I took the ugly old chair out of my room and vacuumed it off after taking all the things off of it, along with the floor and inside of my drawers. That's right, I vacuumed the insides of my drawers. 

Usually my clothes are in a giant heap on my floor, which the dirty ones still are right now, and that's okay with me, but for some reason I decided that it wasn't working anymore. I hung up all the shirts I like, put all my shorts and tank tops in a box in my closet, and filled a tote with t-shirts that I don't wear a lot. I also filled a smaller laundry basket with undergarments, my lucky Spongebob boxers included, and it's sitting at the end of my bed. 

I bet you're trying to figure out why I didn't just put my clothes in one of the three dresser-type things in my room. It's because I like to collect things. Not anything in particular, just things. And not even collect so much as acquire. I guess it's a family trait. But I've managed to gather an impressive selection of neat books because of it, which is what fills all my drawers.

And because I have so much "stuff", I don't have any room in my bedroom. But somehow I managed to find everything a home that afternoon. I even changed my bedding for the first time in an embarrassingly long time, though I regret that choice because my new bedding leaves annoying lint everywhere! If I just kept my room exceptionally clean all the time, this wouldn't be such a production. But I don't, so it does.
That night I heard Rexy rustling around in my room, so I ventured downstairs to get a glue trap. I sprinkled some chocolate chips, his favorite, onto the trap and set it out. A few minutes later I heard him squealing, so I hollered for my dad to come upstairs and get him. I choose to believe that my dad let him go peacefully, but I'm willing to bet that he just left little Rexy in the yard for my cat to munch on later.
So yeah, that's the story of how I got rid of a mouse and my clutter.