Attack of the tree rat!

I am in my office at the university, taking a break before the homeward trek to read diaries and make my own entry, and was surprised just now by a noise at the window, which is at ground level. There is a gray squirrel desperately trying to get in, scrabbling at the slippery glass. It probably thinks that because it can't see the glass, it's not there, something like the time I found Little Princess with her ankle lodged in the doorway of the dollhouse we found in the attic of the house we were renting (which we called The Schweitzer House), thinking she could enter it in spite of the fact that she was bigger than it.

I slept poorly last night, waking every time I needed to turn over, doing so gingerly and with much pain. This morning I could not get out of bed for quite a while--trying to roll out, slide off it, creep to the side and fall off it--the pain was so intense.

I eventually somehow got up, and as soon as I became vertical, the pressure on my sore vertebra caused pain to shoot all the way down my legs to my ankles. I managed to limp downstairs to the kitchen where I swallowed two ACC's (mentioned in last night's entry), as opposed to my usual one, and curled up in agony on the loveseat in the living room. Hubby made Buddy Boy's lunch (following my detailed instructions, of course) and offered to make me a cup of tea, which I wouldn't have been able to drink in a sitting-up position.

Eventually I wiggled onto my knees, butt in the air, torso lying on the sofa (which wasn't too uncomfortable until my knees started to get sore on the hardwood livingroom floor) and Hubby laid the ice pack on the afflicted area. An hour after taking the drugs, I was able to get up and walk around, sit in a chair and have some breakfast. I was even able to alter the top of Little Princess' new dress so she could wear it today, and accompany her to the university.

The pain is by no means gone, just masked. I can't believe I've done this to myself, but then I remember that my mom was just about this age when she started having back problems. That is not a comforting thought.

Anyway, as I crossed the quad from the science building to the music department, I remarked to myself how quiet and beautiful the campus is in the summertime. The grounds people are preparing it for convocation in two weeks' time, planting the flowerbed that faces the main road with flowers that spell out Bushop's name (now here's a question for punctuation enthusiasts: since Bushop's already has an apostrophe in the singular, should there be another at the end if we put it in the possessive?) and cleaning up all of winter's detritus.

We lived on campus (in The Schweitzer House) for two years from 1988 to 1990, and summer was the best time, after the students had left. There are summer courses going on, and conferences rents out space for different events during the season, but compared to the school year, it is an oasis of calm.

Well, the squirrel has gone, so I think I can venture outside without being attacked and walk home. See ya.

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