The Bad Stuff
2004-01-05 at 3:59 p.m.
Okay, I've written about the good things that have happened recently. Allow me to now elaborate on the bad.
I have an image etched on my mind that I won't soon forget. It's one of a member of the rodentia family, who I encountered one night at the trash dumpster at the apartments. I had spoken with several tenants who told me tales of rats at the dumpsters. One flamboyant elderly woman even spoke of rats the size of small dogs. I accepted this a pure exaggeration, as rats can't possibly grow to be that size. I would soon stand corrected.
One evening, while on my way to run errands, I stopped at the dumpster with a bag of trash. It was exceptionally cold that night, so I lazily placed the bag on the front seat of K's car (he would shit... ) and drove it to the recepticle. As I pulled up, I saw it. It being the biggest fucking rat I've ever seen in my entire 37 years!! The strange woman said they were the size of small dogs? No, it wasn't. It was the size of a MEDIUM SIZED DOG!! It scampered away as soon as it saw my headlights but not soon enough for its image to not be forged into my subconscious forever. The memory of its fat grey ass, long flat feet and foot-long tail are enough to give me the heeby geebies even to this day.
I sat there in the car, gasping for breath, sputtering, "Ohmuhgah" over and over. After several minutes of trying to regain my composure, I kicked the trash bag out of the passenger side seat and tore out of the parking lot without even shutting the car door.
I told my family of this event upon my arrival home. E was intrigued and began a week-long stint of asking me to take him to the dumpsters to see the rats.
Eh. I may require therapy at the very thought of my unfortunate encounter, and E wishes he could have seen it.
That same week, my vacuum, my microwave and my coffee maker all went on strike. Luckily, we were getting a new microwave here at the new house, but for a couple of weeks until our move, life was downright primitive. The coffee maker still works, but its clock keeps whatever damn time chooses, making fresh pots of java at 2:16am. As long as I don't rely on the timer, I'm okie dokie. I got a new vacuum, one I love love love love love, so all is well.
I would write about my brand new heater being on the blink, but my hands are so damn cold, I can barely type anymore. I'll save it for another time.