I don't understand why I am more tired at the end of a weekend, than the start of it. As I trudged (yes, Sec 4 English teacher, there is such a word, just like there is a word "scuttled". It isn't my fault your vocabulary is limited) back to my apartment's lift landing, I was horrified to see ein Maus dash across the floor. He sniffed at every single lift door. I was about to squeal. Mind you, I was still bathed in the headlights from B1's car, who was wondering wtf (because I told him not to escort me up because it was already midnight *my mind works in mysterious ways*). Then suddenly up pounced the kitty cat which lives downstairs. The mouse mistakenly ran backwards and encountered the cat. And squeaked really loudly (it was quite funny). And he ran off to the mailboxes.
The cat turned and saw me, and stood startled, until I walked past him. I was wondering if I should reward the heroic pussy with some sardines.
Anyway it was quite amusing. I am afraid of Mr Mouse, which is afraid of Miss Pussy, who is afraid of me.
No comments:
Post a Comment