Cabin fever already???

This could be bad. It's not even January and I'm already getting that itchy claustrophobic feeling I usually get in early March. I want to get out and meet people and do things and be surrounded by color instead of all the greys and blacks. It's this sort of feeling that leads me to sign up for wayyyy too many classes and events and then feel swamped when April rolls around, the weather gets better, and I realize I've overextended myself.

Case in point: I went to the Intercon C website and signed up or waitlisted myself for almost *every* LARP they're offering. Right now I'm definitely playing a turn-of-the-century circus performer, an auditioner for a twisted community theatre, a vamp of some sort, a mortal trapped on a cross-country bus ride through the WOD, and someone from a Parliament/Funkadelic song lyric. I'm waitlisted as a fairy tale character, a Victorian gentleman and a zombie.

(The only thing I could definitely resist was the chance to play a fish in the hotel swimming pool LARP, and that's because I can't swim and have an aversion to showing up dripping wet to the other events. You see what I mean? Madness.)

On a related note: folks who'll be around Boston on New Year's Eve, would anyone be interested in getting dressed up and taking part in the big parade?

We have a MOUSE in the apartment!!

And how do I know we have a mouse? Because while I was on the toilet, doing private things of a solitary nature, it darted through the crack under the door, BOUNCED off my FOOT and whooshed behind the pipes. My FOOT.

Did you know that a mouse in full 60 mph run, when seen out of the corner of one's eye, looks almost exactly like a little grey turd? And that this can lead to great confusion if one is in a certain place, because...well, look at the numbers:

BRAIN ACTIVITY IMMEDIATELY POST-IMPACT

10% What just happened? Let's figure this out!
40% It's moving a million miles an hour! It's right behind me!
50% We punched a hole in the toilet wall! Richochets! Ricochets! We're dead!!!

And through all the bellowing and panic, Toby "Mr. Vigilant Rat Terrier/Guard Dog" sits on the bed, saving his strength so that he can leap into action the second a greyhound walks past outside. It's enough to make me weep.