A 5 or an 8.

I live in a not-crappy apartment in the middle of Southside Huntington, West Virginia. Not a bustling metropolis by any stretch of the imagination, but certainly not the country by any means. It is nice, two bedrooms, my landlord is super ... but it is a garage apartment.

And living here is sometimes like living in a game of Jumanji where someone is always rolling a 5 or an 8.

You know what I'm sayin'?

Exhibit A:

The mice.

I know. This is gross. I do get mice from time to time, and it's gross. This was probably the goriest scene ever though. I had been out to dinner with my BFF(+e ... is that what the kids say?) Melissa and some other friends and I came home to this sight. I probably just stood there for a good five minutes like ... WHAT. Is this my real life? I am pretty sure I texted this photo to Melissa and said "Everyone else went home to their husband and family. I went home to this." Point made.

Exhibit B:

Raccoon.

Okay, so you can't actually see an animal in this photo, but PRAISE GOD FOR THAT. You may remember the raccoons that lived in my ceiling for a good part of the late fall/early winter. The noises they would make ... YIKES. This was definitely the worst when it almost knocked an entire ceiling tile down. The next day, having to work but not having access to rabbit daycare, I had to leave Snicks home alone as per usual. I decided, however, that instead of his usual free run of the house, I'd shut him in the back bedroom for the day, just in case the raccoon got in. Because there is only one outcome to MegaSnicks vs. GiantRaccoon and it isn't MegaSnicks. After having locked Snicks in a room and gone to work, I promptly spent the rest of the day worrying that instead of locking the raccoon out, I had inadvertently turned the back bedroom into the arena from the Hunger Games and, as previously mentioned, Snicks is the tribute that dies at the cornucopia. (Bless his heart.)

Exhibit C:

Ivy.

These vines from the outside of my house are now encroaching on the inside. At least they are polite enough to use the front door.

Exhibit D:

Wood borers.

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME is all I have to say. I first saw one of these delightful fellas about a year ago. I had gotten takeout from Fazolis and was sitting on the couch eating dinner when all of a sudden one of these shot out of the ceiling and started flying around the room. I was obviously like WHAT IN THE HELL. So I'm telling Snicks to run for his life and grabbing a magazine and trying to find where it'd stop to give it a smack. This happened three times last summer, and so far has happened twice this summer. I do understand (because I can read Wikipedia) that they don't sting, but dude -- there is no way I am humanely catching one of these and getting it outside. No way. As an aside, Snicks never went running, let alone for his life, but he jumps 10 feet when I sneeze. Figures. Incidentally, I cannot eat or even see a Fazolis without being like "remember that time I was eating Fazolis and that thing flew out of the ceiling?"

So, if anyone wants to come stay in Hotel Jumanji, you are more than welcome. You can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave. Or something.