Mouse in my house

As you may or may not know, I waged a full scale war against bed bugs in the winter of 2009, I harbor a strong desire to kick a pigeon at some point in my life, and I am really a reluctant animal lover at best:

Let's just say, I don't have the money to buy real leather or fur but even if I did, I doubt I'd be the first to check labels. I'm not proud, I'm just honest.

The point is, I want vermin and pests as far away from me as possible, and while I realize I share Manhattan with innumerable rodents, when I say to my San Fran roommates (we're finally not living 4 to a 2 bedroom apt THANK GOD, but we're still pushing the limits of the lovely 2B with the 2 of them sharing my chiaccherona roomie's old room), and when I say to them that we are not just talking friendly field mice but rather the threat of TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA MICE finding feasts for themselves amidst the food they CONTINUE to leave uncovered on our kitchen counter, clogging the drain to the sink and sans wrapping in our refrigerator I MEAN IT.

So now I am sitting behind my desk at my home office in my equivalent of a biohazardous suit - aka boots and my work out gear. Because should I come across the mouse they screamed about when they thought they saw it a mere hour ago I will want the option to crush it with my heel or at the very least to not have to fear having it scamper across my otherwise sock wearing foot.

Aggressive?

You bet.