And Then I Was a Bear

This was something that, in actuality, occurred a couple of months ago. However, it’s been ruminating in my head, as something that I felt the need to share since it happened. I was told today that I need to update my blog more, and considering that my life is one huge joke, I feel like she’s right.

So, one day, I was driving my (mom’s) car. Simple enough, right? No. Apparently not. Not for me. There always has to be something that somehow makes simple things difficult for me. I cut my finger somehow (???) on the steering wheel, but I had important things to do that day. Important!

I had baby animals to see, damnit! And I was not about to let a cut on my finger bar me from the occasional cuddling I so desperately need to keep myself sane and not curled up crying on the floor of my apartment. So I continued on unabated to the Humane Society. When I arrived, however, I was still bleeding, and so I ever-so-politely asked for a band-aid. Which I was kindly given. 

After bandaging my battle wound, my brother (Oh yeah, he was there, too) and I resumed. We visited first the rodent room, where I felt that it would be a wonderful idea to open the rat cage and, having no prior socialization whatsoever with rats, chase one around the cage with my hand until I cornered it and then reached for its little head.  Rightly, it was at least a little bit peeved at what I was doing all up in its grill. So it bit me.

I’ve been bitten before, but never before by a rat, and let me tell you, it hurts like the dickens. I toddled up to the staff again and bled on their counter while pathetically asking for yet another band-aid, which they graced me with. And once I returned from washing buckets of blood from my finger, freshly bandaged once again, they pushed over some forms that I had to sign to ensure that I wouldn’t sue them for my own ineptitude.

After that, I said screw it, and let’s go look at the cats. I can’t fuck it up with harmless little kittens, right? Wrong once again. I seemed to have forgotten that I was, and continue to be, allergic to cats. So my face became gradually more and more stuffy and red, and by the time I decided that I had to go, I was crying and my eyes were bloodshot. So that’s how the Humane Society staff saw me, a potentially fully-functioning adult, leave the building: a sobbing, blubber-faced goober, holding her boo-boos and shuffling out the door, defeated.

I feel like there are few things already on this earth that I am fully capable of doing, and now animals is no longer one of them.

Of Bomb Threats and Bare Feet

Wow, this was an exceptionally good day! Not only did I spend most of the day without shoes, but I was also one of the many victims of a bomb threat this afternoon! How genial!

During my Psych Stats class this evening, a policeman mozies into our room and says, “Sorry to inturrupt, but we’re evacuating the building. Please leave.” Moments later, another policeman comes in and announces, “We just got a bomb threat for this building, so you’re all gonna have to leave to the next building over.”

So we all get up, but my professor, ever prepared, decides we’re going to the lawn a couple buildings down to finish our stats lecture. This was absolutely delightful for me, since it was so nice out, however, stepping in the pine-needle-infested dead grass made me realize that I had indeed forgotten my shoes in the STSS building I had recently been ushered out of in a frenzy.

Nevertheless, we went on with our studies, for I have an insatiable thirst of knowledge, especially when I can forfeit that knowledge for people-watching and cooing at cute puppies on walks!

At the end of class, naturally, I return to the building to observe the state of things. What I wasn’t prepared for was to stand outside for an hour and a half waiting to be let in.

The best part, though, was that I not only communed with the poor physics class who had left all their belongings in their classroom and had gone without their snackies (which sat uneaten in the basement until we were allowed back into the facility), but also got to meet a bunch of nice cops, speak with the police chief, see the bomb-sniffing dogs AND get on the news! 

We were all very excited to get back into the building, but I didn’t wear my shoes as I ran back home to call my parents and make them proud!