Last night I made it to Largo to see Patton Oswalt (celebrity sighting: Lisa Loeb). One of the comedians who opened for him was joking about all the rats in his New York apartment and how he would catch them running from the couch to underneath his refrigerator. I felt so relieved that at least I didn't have to deal with that problem in L.A.!
At about 1 a.m. I went down to my kitchen, flipped on the light, and a rat scurried under the refrigerator.
Another sleeping pill. I tried to calm down with the thought that at least the rat was downstairs. In the morning, though, I found two pellets in the upstairs bathroom.
I'm putting out glue traps tonight and barricading my bedroom.
I knocked on the door of my very cute neighbor and his girlfriend to tell them about the rat and ask if they could also call the landlord. I was still in my gym shorts, having gone to the gym and then driven to five different stores looking for glue traps. I was sweaty and stuttering and I dropped my mailbox key and then couldn't find it. If this was a movie, it would have been the moment my neighbor would have realized he was falling in love with me.
Alas, this is not a movie.
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