9:30am.

"Did you just knock on my door?" I ask, groggy, through the locked bathroom door.

"No," Amira answers from within, "but there are some strange noises in here."

I pace through the kitchen of my new Kensington Market home and look out the front door; nobody's there. My heart sinks, and I'm not sure why - intuition?

I take my turn on the toilet.

All alone, I contemplate this eery feeling for mere seconds when I instinctively turn towards an increasingly common sound at the sink-end of the WR - but louder - and am staring at a little furry creature. A large little furry creature.

And - call it a hunch - I know two things immediately:

1) It's the one (or at least of the species) that's been making all the noise in the walls,

and,

2) it's definitely not a squirrel (as Bruce had pontificated).

Oh no, sirry... It's just like a mouse - a cute 'n pesky mouse - but it's too big to be a mouse. And it's staring back.

It looks less afraid than I probably do. I put on a mean veneer. Show no fear... Yeah right. I'm sure it can see right through me.

"Amira," I call, trembling a bit. I can see her shadow in the living room through the frosted brick wall. "We have a problem. I just saw it."

"Are you okay?" she asks. I'm trying to be.

It's been just over two weeks since I moved into my new Toronto home: my first _ever_ since moving out of my parents' place at 17 that I haven't seen as totally temporary. And I like it here!!

My roommates are cool, fun, interesting, and great kitchen companions to boot; my room is cozy and I'm working on the decor; the location (despite the noisy bar downstairs and the mice - which we were eradicating and I was putting up with just fine) is awesome; and I was starting to get excited about the potential for this place to be the "home sweet home" I've started really craving in my travels of late.

But I have to go to the washroom again, and I'm scared to.

I take a step out of the (psychological) safety of my room, and see its tail. Its long, skinny rat-tail.

Damn.