Spring Psychosis - 04.02.02 - 11:49 am
Look!

I just cleaned out Stinky's old cage so now I, too, am stinky.

Unlike mice and rats, male and female squirrels do not have different smells. Well, a scent distinguishable to a human nose. Beelka hates me right now because I smell like the evil boy. Or maybe it's because I smell like another squirrel, period. Beelka hates other squirrels.

Anyway, also unlike mice and rats, squirrels don't have such an unpleasant funkiness to them. They smell, for lack of a better metaphor, like trees. Or trees smell like squirrels. We may never know.

Yeah, so I'm almost down to my last pack of cigarettes which means I'll have to leave my house soon.

I don't want to leave my house.

It's so obviously Spring outside and do you know what Spring does? Spring makes people horny. Except me. Spring makes me bitter.

Some guy at the diner apparently looked me up and down and then leered "Hey, babycakes." I say 'apparently' because I was too busy staring at my shoes, thinking 'I have adrogynous feet' to notice.

"Do I have adrogynous feet?" I asked my friend when we were seated.

"Dude, that guy..." my friend answered.

"What guy?"

"The one who was leering at you."

"Huh?"

"Holy shit, Molly. You didn't notice that? Some old man checked you out and called you babycakes. He was standing right next to you."

"Dude. Ew."

"Yeah. It skeezed me out and it wasn't my boobs he was staring at."

This only happens in fucking Spring. The last thing I want is a boy hitting on me and the first thing on everyone's mind is "Hey, a person of the opposite sex. I'm going to make perverted comments and hope I get some monkey love out of it."

OK, so maybe I'm exagerrating/overreacting. Whatever.

I still don't want to leave my house.

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