3 Days Out Of Work

• A Rat Rips My Face Open
• Guitar Repair
• Rained Out Wednesday

• This morning, I woke up at about 6 a.m.

Should This Not Be Priority #1??

This is typically the time that the rats become frenzied, probably due to their sensing that the sun is about to rise and that their nocturnal asses have just one last opportunity to grab whatever they can before descending into their lairs, which are probably 20 below where I sleep.
It is probably lined with Rouses Market plastic bags and Styrofoam, and they may just be using that knit glove which just disappeared from me as a "welcome mat" which they wipe the mud off their feet onto.
Fixing My Neck
Yesterday, I got on the #5 bus for $1.25 and went all the way to Webbs Bywater Music store, where I learned that I should have called ahead before going; because I also learned that Paul is off on Tuesdays.
I decided to walk back into the Quarter to save another $1.25, and because it is really only about a 2 mile walk.
I would feel like a wimp if I couldn't handle a 2 mile walk.
The weather was poised to turn nasty. Other people read the forecasts and believed them.
When I went into Rouses Market to buy spaghetti and sauce and water, Treva the cashier raised her eyebrows. The implication was: How is Daniel able to cook spaghetti?

I went under the dock.
One of the big rats and a tiny one were asleep inside my sleeping bag, which I had laid out like a made bed.
They lethargically moved out after I peeled back the covers and shone my light upon them; so slowly that I was able to pet the big one.
I cooked an excellent meal, consisting of the above ingredients, with hot sauce and sesame oil and olive oil and salt and pepper and pickles with its juice added.
It took a long time for the 40 degree water to come to a boil; so long that I foraged for driftwood and added it to the fire at the risk of attracting the law with my smoke.
It was such a good meal that I ate it all, leaving nothing for the rats.
I did give them a few scraps of things, but not much.
At one point in the night, one of them was going about nudging my face; in an attempt to get me to throw more food, and that woke me up and, when I moved my arm, the rat, fearing that my arm was something entirely alien from me which was coming toward it; decided to bolt; and its escape plan was to jump over my head and go that way.

So, it dug a claw into my forehead, just above the eyebrow and catapulted itself to safety, away from my arm.
A few moments later, I felt my forehead and the familiar sticky liquid of blood was apparent.
I thought about it and decided that these rats, who love me enough to want to sleep in the warmth of my bag and inhale my scent were not to blame for anything.
What I figure is that, this rat had torn into the food which I had thrown them, mostly things that I am allergic to, or intollerant of, like cheese. Then, the accident which occurred actually resulted in myself becoming vaccinated against the allergens.
It had cheddar cheese all over its claws and it sunk one into me and vaccinated me against my allergy to cheese...how cool is that?
Or, if it had gotten into any garlic; an immunity boosting shot it did give me.
Kill Them Anyways??
Still, the idea of getting rat traps crossed my mind. The only thing is, that if I set enough of them, they would be going off like popcorn popping and I would probably have a dead pile of them to throw to the catfish in the river.
Plus, as soon as the weather improves I won't have to sleep there out of necessity.
Plus, I have a Unity caseworker who is supposedly working to get me housing...I seldom see him, though.
Miserable Weather
During that Tuesday night, into Wednesday (yesterday) morning, rain poured down very hard.
It was barely above freezing and there was wind.
I totally understood why Treva the cashier might wonder how I was going to be able to cook spaghetti under those conditions.
None of the above I felt, except for a tiny bit of splashing from the rainwater coming down the drainpipe from the dock so hard that it was splashing droplets as far as where I lay 8 feet away.
I had to reposition a couple rocks to deflect it elsewhere.
The wind, I was out of, up high enough under the wharf.
And the cold was no match for my sleeping bag and blankets.
I was vexed upon hearing that Wednesday was forecast to get no higher than 45 degrees before plummeting to just above freezing.
I would have to basically repeat the previous day, by not busking, but rather cooking a meal over a fire and getting to sleep fairly early.