Nick Moretti and the Box of Death

I got home from work last night to find the rat playing under the t-shirts in my closet again. This time I was determined to solve the problem. My intention was to chase it out the patio doors into my backyard and away from my house. It didn't quite go that way though.

I managed to chase it from my closet into my bedroom, where it hit under the dresser. I moved the dresser and chased it into the hallway and then into my "family room" (of course I don't have a family so it's really not a family room at all). It took refuge under my couch until I lifted the couch and he ran... in the wrong direction. It started running back towards my bedroom.

So I dropped the couch and stepped quickly toward the rat while swinging my foot at it to try to kick him back towards the patio doors. I guess I kicked a little too hard because the rat screamed. I had hurt him. He was stunned for a second and then started to scurry away again. Instinctively, I took off my shoe and beat it to death.

Ugh. I fucking killed me. I still don't know why I did it. I NEVER kill animals. EVER!!! Since I've been taking the Buddhist classes I don't even kill bugs. When I had a window replaced last year 100's of flies and bugs got into the house. I actually went around catching them and releasing them outside. Now I beat a rat to death. I even had to clean blood off my floor and wall. Damn.

I was so shaken afterward and actually had tears in my eyes. I grabbed my blender, poured in some Mudslide mix, added triple the amount of recommended coconut rum, and tried to drown out the thoughts of what just happened.

When I felt a little calmer I scooped up the dead body and put it in a cardboard box that I found in my garage with the name Debbie written on it. I didn't write the name on it. Don't know why it's there. Maybe the rat's name was Debbie and fate had it's death box waiting for her in my garage. For some reason I felt the need to tape the box shut tightly. Like it was going to come back to life and get revenge on my when I was sleeping. I put the box outside my door for the night and this morning, on my way to the hospital, I kept it on the floor of my truck (which I had actually cleaned yesterday).

I left the dead rat in my truck while I went into hospital to get my pre-op tests. Didn't realize they were going to take so long and I started to think that maybe I would come back to some dead, decaying smell. Thank God I didn't.

Here's a picture of the latest hospital fashion. I wish I could have gotten a shot of the back because the back of that thing didn't close and I don't wear underwear. I hope that view was at least a little better than the front view.

Anyway, my pee was yellow. My blood was red. My heart was beating. And my lungs were pumping. So I guess I'm all ready for my surgery next week.

Unless Debbie the rat comes back to kill me in my sleep before then. I wonder if it's too early in the day to blend up a pitcher of mudslides.