The damn squirrels are at it again. I'm sitting in my office and on the roof above me is the constant scratching and scraping of dirty squirrel talons digging into my shingles. At least that's what I imagine them to be doing. All I know is I'm hearing loud scrabbling noises and it's about to drive me to distraction. Any neighbor who dares peek in my window will probably call the cops to come arrest the crazed lunatic who's pounding a plastic broom handle against her ceiling whilst muttering squirrel curses.
Oh hell, they're inside the walls. Literally as I'm typing this the vent cover in the wall next to me starts rattling and it sounds like dust is falling behind it as something moves around. Any minute now I expect a red-eyed squirrel demon to throw open the vent and declare war, probably beating me to death with the plastic broom handle.
And where are my cats, my protectors? Downstairs sleeping on the sofa. Someone needs to start earning their keep around here.
If later on today you see a blog entry reading something along the lines of "Hlp. Atcked by sqrls. Bldeeng to deth," you'll know to send help, right?