I have never been so traumatized in all my days

We were slow at work today, so I was doing some extra cleaning. I was vaccumming down the hallway and decided to get behind the vet's freezer (where they put the dead animals...but technically that has nothing to do with this story).

I got a giant clump of hair stuck in the shop vac hose. I pulled the hose out and started tugging on the hair. There was this plastic string stuck in it - I figured it was a zip tie. I pulled and pulled...and then an ugly memory hit me. I opened my hand all the way to find a rock-hard dead mouse in it.

I screamed, flung the mouse at the wall, and began dancing and shaking my hand and freaking out. Vet techs poured in from the operating rooms. In the office, my boss began frantically changing camera views to see what dog was bleeding. They realized what happened and laughed and walked away. My boss threw the mouse away ( she did it with one hand over her eyes, a bunch of paper towels in the other, and screaming, "I don't think I can do it!") while I was panicking and washing my hands over...and over...and over. Then I burst into tears. Then I puked. Then I washed my hands over...and over...and over. Then I cried some more. Then I asked to go home (my boss called me a pansy). Then I washed my hands. Then I walked around shaking my hand because I could still feel it on my fingers. Then I washed my hands.

I was a sniveling, shaking mess in the office for half an hour before she told me to go home.


Ugly Memory: When I was around five, I was washing dishes with my mother. I looked down to see a mouse tail peeking out of the cabinet. I have never, not once, been able to do dishes with my feet more than two feet away from the sink. Ever. I have issues.


Thursday I go back to the doctor...I don't care for the Cymbalta. I can't remember to take it every day, so I am not coming well. I would like some Xanax (for situations of 'sension'). I think something more situation-based would be better.