28 June 2014


First story. The other week we had a little rat problem. I went outside and heard something rustling. Next thing I know a big shiny brown rat jumped out from behind the rubbish bag and ran off towards the garden. Probably because my horrible flatmates put food in the rubbish bad without wrapping it properly. So I put the rubbish bag into the recycling bin thinking that way the rat wouldn't be able to rip into it. A few nights later, I opened the door and Cher started getting all excited. I crept down the steps and gave the recycling bin a nudge with my foot, then jumped back quick as that big brown rat jumped out of the bin and raced off into the garden again. Cher chased it, which did no good because it had disappeared, and she simply trampled my garden for awhile. I didn't want to put poison out because there are so many cats and dogs around, and I didn't think I could handle getting a trap and then having to deal with a dead rat. On one more occasion I saw the rat - it was one of the first nights that my new flatmate was here (more about that soon) and we heard a noise outside. Again I crept down the steps and gave the recycling bin a nudge. Nothing happened, so I gave the other bin a nudge and out ran the rat - with Cher right after it again. I jumped and screamed a little. And decided that enough was enough. That night I put out rat poison, and I reckon the rat ate some of it because it looked disturbed. I haven't seen it since. But just to be sure we got a proper bin to put the rubbish bag in.

So a second story? OK, Cher and I were at the park because it was horrible and rainy and I didn't feel like going for a proper walk and coming home with wet feet. The park gets sort of muddy and swampy so I stayed on the pavement under the shelter of the veranda (there is a clubhouse/bathrooms sort of building) and I kicked the ball for Cher from there. Which was fun, except just the one time she wouldn't bring it all the way back to me, she stopped about a metre off. So I thought, that's OK, I'll just step onto the grass, my shoes will still stay dry. I stepped onto the grass and kicked the ball, and in the same movement my non-kicking foot slid in the mud and next thing you know I have landed on my butt in the mud, leaving a big muddy patch all over my butt, up my back and down my arms where I tried to catch myself. So that's what I get for trying to be nice to the stupid dog. From now on she can just bring it all the way to me instead.

In other news, I have one new and much better flatmate (have I mentioned that already?) and we have finally found another one to move in next week. Hopefully it will all work out OK. My job at the ministry has pretty much finished and I have not even had any interviews for other jobs yet, let alone an offer. There is always the museum to fall back on, but it is low season and there are no special exhibits on so there will probably not be much work to be had. I have to finish of my course work for the publishing diploma in the next week and I'm way behind because my computer died on me. Plus my PhD publications are up in the air - one is meant to be submitted on Monday but I have no idea if I'm supposed to be submitting it or my supervisor is. Serious lack of communication. And writing some good job applications is way higher on my priority list than that is. They can just make do without me if they must. So now today has been lovely and sunny and I have been very busy because there is so much to get done of the weekend. Yet despite being busy all day I've done no work on my job applications or course work so I best get started on that now. 

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