Brianna brought home one of her coworkers' classroom hamster this weekend and I've been watching him for the last half hour or so. It's weird. He lives possibly the saddest life ever. This is what his day is made up of:
1. eat
2. sleep
3. poop
4. run on wheel
5. attempt escape
I feel bad for him, because he's so desperate to get out of his little 12"x10"x8" cage that he forgets all the ways he CAN'T get out. On top of the wheel? No dice. Through the bars? My head is too big, can't fit. Standing in my food? Still no. Maybe if I climb on top of the wheel?
I mean, I know that no matter how big a cage you put a hamster in, he will still spend 80% of his time trying to get out. But I still feel bad for little Creamsicle (that's what I named him.)
In any case, anyone in the NY area should go to this:
It's gonna be a blast. And no, "It's father's day" is not a legit excuse. Dads like free vodka, so bring him along.
Tomorrow I am interviewing
this band. Probably the best band I've started listening to this year, so I'm psyched to hear them play some acoustic songs for Inklings.
Good luck, Creamsicle. But also, please don't escape in my apartment.