I have a gremlin that lives in my apartment. I have sat up at night with the shotgun waiting for him to appear so I can eradicate him. I am not so sure that my neighbors will appreciate the noise, but I cannot continue to let him live here. You see he is disrupting my ability to get anything done. He is constantly moving things around and hiding stuff. He has a particular love for my desk. You see I all but live at my desk. I eat here. I write here. I watch TV here. I would sleep here but I keep hitting my head on the computer when I do. This little nasty creature loves to pile junk on my desk. He hides the floppy disks that I need and he dumps all my ink pens in the floor. I guess the thing I hate about him the most is that he is always leaving empty water bottles in the desk and every thing not covered with empty bottles is covered with bottle caps. Then there is his hiding my salt shaker. I can’t stand that. I get all ready to eat. I have the newly nuked frozen dinner in my hand and all I need is the salt shaker, but when I look for it I cant find it anywhere. It is supposed to stay in the cabinet over the desk but it is never there. And don’t even get me started on the remote control. I know, I know I can reach the TV easily but I can’t watch it without the remote. Now you would think that since I stay at the desk all the time the remote would be right at hand, but the little gremlin is always taking it into the kitchen or bathroom or once he even hid it in my truck. For some reason he leaves my cell phone alone at least he has since the last time I had my next door neighbor call it so I could find it. That must not have been any fun to watch. He gets more enjoyment out of watching me get frustrated trying to find something to write with when just five minutes before I had a whole pickle jar full of them. (Yes. I said pickle jar. I am cheap and they make perfect pencil holders Somewhere around here I have a salsa jar full of crayons and markers. And, yes, I wash the jars out before I use them as office equipment.) He leaves the jar but takes all the pencils and pens. Then he hides them all in the couch cushions – where I never sit by the way. His favorite thing to hide is my dictionary. Even though the cover is bright red I constantly have to dig through all the junk mail and newspapers to find it.
So if you drive past my apartment one night and you hear a shot fired, don’t be too concerned – it just means I finally got the little bugger.