This morning, I was woken up when one of the girls staying in the dorm knocked on my door. I only remember saying, "What time is it?" and her sentence faded at the end and I got angry but I got out of bed.
Turns out, she had trapped a rat under a bowl and needed directions.
First let me start by saying this-
Before I moved, I held very little animosity towards rodents. The mice that would inevitably show up were cute and mostly harmless. My mother has told stories of the sewer rats she'd seen while working in the city, but the weren't real to me.
That has changed.
I fudged around for a bit, debating on who I could ask to kill it. Whether or not someone would kill it was out of the question. When I had exhausted my supply of people, I grabbed the largest book I could find (Spirit of Prophecy, Volume One) picked up the bowl (there was a book underneath, to keep the rat trapped) and took it outside. I asked someone to lift the bowl, and as soon as they did I threw that book as hard as I could down onto the rat.
It tried to run away after the first throw, so I picked up the book and smashed it twice more. I watched the rat until it stopped twitching, picked up the book, and went inside.
Thank God that the day went uphill from there.
But really, my day was actually pretty awesome after that, considering that I'm really good at not thinking about things.
This was where I was going to describe my day, but anything after that little experience sounds... I don't know, but it doesn't make sense.
C'est la vie, in the truest form.