. . . dead rats smell like rotting cabbage. I gained this knowledge when I came home from school, immediately noticed the stench, then noticed an unusually large gathering of bluebottles. I was scared to move the plinths to look under the kitchen units, but when Ian came home we did, but thre was no rat to be found. There are, however, holes in the flooring so we assume the body(ies) are below.
Ian's dad has informed us that it'll take ten days for the carcass to dry out, but the smell is already vomit-inducing, and I seriously won't be eating anything at home if it gets any worse. Ugh.
Busyness
Yesterday I got a job - hooray! It's at a very high achieving school, but no one appeared to be snotty and the head of English described herself as a heathen, which I liked. I felt very strange once I was offered the job, possibly because the day was so informal and I hadn't even taught a sample lesson. I mainly feel relieved with a mix of trepidation and anxiety . . .
The Weekend
On Saturday I got shouted at by a woman with an autistic child at Chester Zoo. She obviously assumed that my squinting face was a screwed up expression of disgust at her ugly, whining offspring, but it wasn't. The zoo was good though. We could have watched the baby chimps playing for hours, and the bat cave is amazing too.
Also on Saturday I had to partner with the very drunken singer from HCdeP at his dad's 60th birthday ceilidh. Quite hilarious. Ian's dad almost danced for the second time in his life, but he chose the most complicated dance of the night and got fed up with the ridiculously ill-explained instructions and gave up. Almost history in the making.
Update over.
12 working days left.
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