Fucking arboreal rodents ripped a scone-sized hole in our kitchen screen this morning and stole one of my crispety glazed pastries. This now marks the second intra-apartment squirrel incident, one of too many here on Haverford's campus. Those little fuckers, along wtih the multitude of rabbits out back, have no shame, no healthy fear of humans, and apparently nothing better to do than to break into our second story windows. We throw things at them to try and establish the *true* order of the foodchain, but to no avail. We're omnivores, dammit! Doesn't that count for anything anymore? The world has gone mad.
I baked up a storm today, pretending that I don't have work to do, and that my Spanish thesis is going to materialize out of nowhere, that I'll be able to snatch a topic out of the mists of formlessness and indecision. The grand plan is to leave the biscotti for the interview and my caramel-ginger cookies all laid out in a row, with the windows cracked juuuuust enough for the bushy-tailed bastards to smell them, but not get in. When I get back from photo tomorow morning, I want to look up from the path and see a row of buck teeth chattering in drooling mouths, just wishing they could eat my baked goods.
Mmmmwwaaahahahahahahha. [evil laugh]
Maybe I just didn't get enough sleep last night.
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