My basement skeers me.
Not as much as the last basement scared me. But it still scares me.
I hate going down there. I loathe going down there. I will put off doing the laundry until we are all forced to turn underwear inside out just to avoid going down there.
But it wasn't always like that.
When we first moved in, I was so proud of all our decluttering during the move process. We only took up a small portion of the basement with our "store stuff" pile. We had a nice big open area down there. Everything was clean and shiny.
Ooops. I forgot that we were only half moved! And for some reason, most of the rest of the stuff that we moved ended up down there. It's a pitiful mess now. There's barely room to walk to the washer and dryer. Boxes are piled everywhere. Some half open. Some half dug through. It's embarrassing. And even worse.... we have mice.
I. Hate. Rodents.
Let me repeat that because really there aren't enough words to convey just how disgusted I am. I. Hate. Rodents!!!!!
I am convinced that every second I'm not patrolling, they're happily nibbling away at our cardboard boxes, looking for a cozy place to make a nest and pop out millions and millions of baby mousies. It gives me the heebie jeebies to the point that I can't sleep at night!
But there is SO MUCH JUNK down there that trying to even sort through it is a monumental task.
However, this weekend is the weekend I declare war on the basement and all the mice in my nightmares.
Wish me luck. I might never emerge to tell the tales.