While Y was on interview #3, some kind of rodent took up residence in our walls. Of course it decided the best time for its stay would be when I was home alone, extra sensitive to every little noise. Every time I thought I was falling asleep, I would hear a taptaptap behind my head and before I knew it, Ike would be standing on my chest barking. Not cool, unidentified rodent.
But the incident reminded me of a story: when Y and I lived in a crappy old apartment at LSU, something lived in our ceiling. We heard it running around occasionally, mainly when it got cold. Our apartment was an upgrade for Y; he had lived in a ramshackle quadplex where a dead mouse was a weekly occurrence.
Our apartment was a downgrade for me: my friend and I lived in a fairly new townhouse with a new washer and dryer and a bowling alley. Okay, it was a long narrow closet, but we called it the bowling alley. My point is, there were no rodents.
Anyway, one morning at the new apartment, Y and woke up and heard scratching coming from the ceiling. “Ugh, it’s that mouse again,” I groaned, rolling over and falling back asleep. When I eventually got out of bed, I stepped on something grainy with my bare feet. I squinted at the neat little pile on the ground. Paint chips? I thought to myself. How did those get…
I happened to look up. And scream, because this is basically what I saw on my ceiling:
I don’t mind squirrels, honestly. Just when they’re sticking their head through my ceiling.
And that’s what kept me up until 1 am while Y was at interview #3. Fear of a squirrel.
Y’s pre-interview dinners were sometimes during my environmental health class. So two weeks in a row, while I suffered through three hour lectures on lead poisoning and occupational health, Y texted me pictures of the amazing gratis meals he was eating.
Do you have any idea how good blurry pub food sounds when you’re learning about reproductive issues in factory workers in Korea? Really good.