I'm pretty sure the rat, which I thought had left my apartment, is still living there. I began to think this when I saw it JUMP OUT THE WINDOW AND RUN ACROSS MY LAP.

The past week or so Amadeus and I have been spotting a small animal in and around our kitchen. We decided it was a mouse after one night it ran by Sarah and she told us it was definitely probably a mouse. At this point I "constructed" a trap which consisted of a rather large jar, a post-it note with peanut butter it on the bottom, and a cutting board ramp. I thought the mouse might climb up the cutting board, try to get at the PB, would falling and be waiting for me nonchalantly so I could take it outside and let it go. Apparently the mouse was too smart for that, he didn't even TRY to eat the peanut butter.

The next day, while preparing to make a sandwich, I discovered the mouse had started nibbling at our bread supply. There were only a few slices left, so it wasn't a big deal, but that creature ruined my lunch. At this point I started to invest a little more time into capturing the mouse.

Anyway, I went out and bought some small glue traps for it. I figured those were more humane and it wouldn't leave me with a mutilated body. I opted for the smaller mouse traps because they were cheaper and honestly I thought they were large enough. They weren't. I woke up the next morning and the trap AND the animal were missing. This means the trap kind of worked but kind of didn't work and left me feeling a little anxious because if the animal could have walked away with he trap attached to itself it means it's probably a rat.

So I spent about a good amount of time yesterday looking for a time capsule I buried in my back yard when I was 11 years old. Before I continue, I'll let you know it wasn't found. It's still in the ground somewhere. There were a couple things that made the search a little difficult, I'll list them in this list right here.

1. It could have been located anywhere within a 10 foot radius of the point from where I started digging. I only remembered the general location.
2. I forgot how deep I buried it.
3. The yard was burning my feet.
4. It was hot. Real hot.
3. DIGGING HOLES IS HARD. Have you ever tried to dig a big hole? Not fun. Even little holes can be difficult.

Maybe I'll muster up the energy to try again when it's cool out, but until then that time capsule can go fuck itself.

#5

A couple years ago I learned that my great grandmother died from burn wounds after her Mexican sun dress caught fire on a stove when she was cooking. Now and then I catch myself daydreaming, trying to imagine what it would have been like to have been in that kitchen. Half the time I create this memory which is kind of black and white with splotches of color and hazy (as memories (even if fabricated) often are). Everything moves in slow motion and has some kind of mesmerizing atheistic. Like a foreign film. And then the dream snaps to what it actually probably looked like, which must have been absolutely horrifying. Anyway, these romanticized and realistic versions both coexist stimutaneously in my mind and switch back and forth as if someone were flipping a switch in my brain. I don't really know what to think of it, but for the most part it gives me this sense of peace and tranquility which is odd considering I'm thinking of someone burning alive.