In My Tower

There are some things in life that you will never be prepared for. A bat flying around your house while you’re completely alone is one of them.

Here’s how it went down.

I’m in the process of painting my bedroom, so I came down to the kitchen to grab a chair to stand on because I’m short and can’t reach about half of my walls. As I was carrying the chair, something small and black came zooooooming out of nowhere straight at me.

I immediately sunk to the floor and tried to cover myself with the chair. (Chairs apparently don’t only work as shields when you’re facing a lion.) I was screaming and crying by this point and that didn’t cease for a few hours.

After another terrifying few minutes of it finding my room and flapping around lost in there while I sobbed on the bed, pleading with it to just leave my room (bats don’t speak English? I guess?), it flew out and I slammed the door.

Finally having a moment to calm down, I started thinking about what to do next.

Chase after it? Try to capture it? I called my mom who told me to find someone to help me. Easier said than done when you’re in a small town that you just moved to and almost everyone is home for Labor Day. (Good timing, bat…)

I called my teammate Jacob who was thankfully hanging out with Patrick, one of the students here. They were on their way over to help.

So here I am. It’s about midnight. I’m 100% trapped in my room by this stupid bat. Once I finally stopped crying for a few minutes, I realized how good of a metaphor this was for growing up. There are so many situations I don’t want to deal with, whether it be bats, spiders, paying bills, emotional issues, or cooking dinner for myself, but no matter how long I stay locked in the safety of my room, these kind of problems don’t just disappear.

Eventually, my friends showed up and I went (with a laundry basket over my head, naturally) to open my bedroom door to walk downstairs, but the bat was LITERALLY RIGHT OUTSIDE MY ROOM WAITING FOR ME, so instead I shut the door, ran to my window, and yelled down to the guys to come in.

In between the moments of absolute terror and panic, I felt like a princess. I was locked in my tower, waiting to be rescued by my incredibly wonderful male friends. They came with tennis rackets and a desire to take care of this problem for me. I am so grateful.

I don't have long blonde hair or an evil mother and I'm not animated, but otherwise Rapunzel and I are basically the same person.
I don’t have long blonde hair or an evil mother and I’m not animated, but otherwise Rapunzel and I are basically the same person.

It’s all well and good to be independent – I am currently painting a room by myself for the first time ever, I made some awesome burritos earlier this week, and the other day I killed a rather large spider in our bathroom – but sometimes you have to ask for help to get out of your tower, and that’s totally fine too.

In light of this, I couldn’t help but laugh at the Mass readings today, when the first reading from Isaiah started with “BE BRAVE” and then Jesus, in the gospel, tells the deaf/mute man to “BE OPENED”. (Yeah, yeah, Jesus, I know I need to open the door and be brave and face my problems.)

Overall, things are very very good here in Wayne and we’re just going to collectively overlook the fact that I haven’t posted since I moved been here ;)

I promise now that I’m settled in, I’ll be able to write more often!

Please know that I’m praying for you! Please pray for me that I don’t somehow get rabies :)


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