Where's the Mousey?

Dead. Wedged between the front door, and the frame. In the fetal position. Her name was Andromeda, and I'm sure she lived a good life, feeding off my roommates scraps. She's currently draped in Bounty, awaiting a peaceful swim towards Staten Island. It's quite amusing, because the mega-crazy roommate has barefooted quite close to the "body", completely unaware of a cold, dead creature imediatly to her right.

In startling similar news, my roommate loaned me a copy of the Bell Jar. Imagine zany me, reading a book such as that? Some were concerned it would deeply affect me, due to the familiar subject matter. Of course it did not. There were no revelations to be had, with the Bell Jar. If anything it really jogged my clouded memories about the past, which will be extremely useful come memoir time.