Monday, May 18, 2015

Mixed feelings (AM)

I was sure that Miss Soft Crab had written a few posts under the banner 'Mixed Feelings'. Turns out this is the first. And even more surprisingly, we've only tagged 6 posts with the tag 'Feelings', though it seems to me all we do is talk about feelings. I guess we just feel them, and don't talk about them that much.  Weird. Or possibly, we talk about them constantly and don't use the tag 'feelings' when we do. That seems more likely.

Anyway, back to mixed feelings. My stage of life is quite conducive to mixed feelings.  I'm extremely excited all the time,  and I'm a little bit worried all the time. I could go into details but they are quite boring. Also, most of the time it's quite abstract. I'm excited about having a baby, but it's something that is happening in the future, and the things I'm worried about (apart from, you know, having the baby), tend to be well in the future.  Like, will the little tacker make friends? Will it have a bad sense of direction like I do? How will I help it if it does, I never know which direction I'm going! As you can see, it's really not worth putting in to words. But today I have mixed feelings about something very very tangible.

Basically, it's like this. We have rats living in our roof. I know, gross. I say 'rats', but I have no idea how many, or even if they are rats. The could be mice. Or possums. Or bunyips, who knows? All we know is that every night we wake up to the sound of creatures scampering about our roof in quite a hurry and with no mind to the fact that there are people sleeping downstairs. It's creepy and gross and I want it to stop. To this end, Appleheart put a bunch of ratsack up in the roof  the other day and when he came back, he said there is quite a lot of poo up there. Great, I thought. We'll get em for sure!
Flash forward to last night and instead of the sound of rats scampering about, I heard both scampering and squeaking, very mournful squeaking. I pictured a mother and father rat who had eaten the ratsack, or fed it to their rat babies, and were either squeaking mournfully because they were dying and terrified of leaving their rat babies behind, or watching their rat babies die.
I am SURE that's what happened and OH GOD it's all my fault but (assuming J would tell me to harden the eff up) living with rats in the roof is gross and one of us had to go.
So you know, mixed feelings.

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