Saturday, April 24, 2010

Why Do You Want To Hurt Me?

Reader(s),

It's been over a week since my last post. This is largely in part due to the fact that I need to graduate. That's been my focus recently: not flunking so I can walk across the stage in two weeks. Shazam!

But anyway, so that's why I haven't been here. & I'm sorry. Because you guys are equally important.

Now that we've got that squared away, I'm going to talk about something semi-related.

Full Throttle.

How is that semi-related you might find yourself asking? Because generally I ONLY drink Full Throttle when I'm studying, or leaving Austin at 6 am & needing to stay awake, or thirsty...

But anyway, as I've also mentioned I'm a procrastinator. Which is ALSO why I need the Full Throttle: sometimes I am just that far behind in my studies that as tests approach, I spend days on end awake studying. Case in point, last week. My Classical Mythology class had its second test. It was monumentally important that I pass this test because it accounted for 30% of my grade and I made an F on the first test--which was 20% of my grade. So actually, I didn't just need to pass, I had to pass the shit out of it like with a high B. And I was behind in my studies...redundant?

So I was drinking Full Throttle.

I had two cans and then around 3 am, I start hearing scratching/chewing sounds coming from the far wall of my bedroom. It stopped and would come back every now and then. I wrote it off as the floor boards creeking since I have hard wood floors. Actually, I ignored it until Shakespeare started barking and scratching at the same spot where all of these noises were coming from. Then I stopped studying and spent 45 minutes with my head against the wall listening to whatever it was chewing and scratching and scurrying. I wasn't sure, but in my mind, I saw this:


Yes, my friends, that is a naked mole rat. An oddly specific fear. Actually, in my mind, I just saw a rat chewing away at the inner walls of my bedroom but the photo is for dramatic effect.

So at 4:50, I was deeply considering taking a hammer to the wall, creating a hole large enough for me to find said supposed rat and then bash its brains in with the hammer.

But my parents pay mortgage on this house & with me moving out this summer, we're going to need to find someone to rent it...or buy it. Not a good time to create large holes in the wall.

At 5:15, I went walking around the perimeter of the house looking for a rat hole chewed into the house's stucco exterior. And I found one; in the roof.

At 5:20, I decided to phone my dad for advice. Our conversation went something like this:

Riiiiiing, Rinnnnng

Dad (in sleepy voice): Hello?

Me: Dad! Dad!

Dad: Is everything okay?!? What's wrong?!?

Me: Dad, there's a rat in the wall. I'm trying to study but I can't because I can hear it chewing and scratching. What should I do???

Dad: There's a rat in wall?

Me: YEEEES! I found the hole it made; it's in the roof! Omigosh, do you think it'll eat its way into my room? I have a test tomorrow & I can't study. Even Shakespeare can hear it! He keeps clawing and barking at the wall. What should I do?

Dad: Just calm down? You found its hole outside? Well, there's nothing we can do right now. I'll be in town next week, we'll call an exterminator. Don't worry.

Me: What if it comes inside???

Dad: It probably won't; it probably just wants to get back outside. Don't worry about it, okay? We'll take of it when I get there.

Me: Dad--I'm scared.

& the conversation went on from there.

When my dad did get here & we did call an exterminator, the hole turned out to be from a satelite dish that was unistalled.

& I haven't heard the scratching since.

I BLAME YOU, FULL THROTTLE!!! WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO TASTEY WITH SUCH DIRE CONSEQUENCES?!? WHY DO YOU WANT TO HURT ME???


3 comments:

  1. It's called Psychosis my dear.. :)

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  2. It can't have been just you! Your dog heard it too!
    Hopefully the rat's not playing tricks on you.

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  3. @Flor: stop psycho-analyzing me on my blog! i see what you're doing! haha

    @Lexa: that is the one part of the story that still has to be accounted for. Shakespeare was totally freaking out.

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