Thanksgiving break. The dorm's a bit more sparsely populated. No Trombone Boy, no Mento, nor were there any similar distractions. Good, since I had to turn in a composition on Monday. Friday morning, I was working feverishly, for I had, so far, failed to even sketch out anything worthy of turning in.

I cleared off a large space on the floor, and had my various (still-blank) staff-paper charts spread out - I had to write the full charts (to be turned in to the professor), plus write out the sheet music for the six individuals who would be performing the piece in class.

I was making good progress (foregoing such distractions as food and sleep), and then a rat showed up, out of nowhere, and began scurrying around the room, finally shortening his travels to just running up and down my various unfinished charts. I'd never seen a rat before, and didn't know what to do. (In retrospect, I should have vowed to write down a quarter-note or something wherever it shat on my charts).

Once I got over the shock, I was still at a loss for a plan of action - I was Ahimsa Boy in those days, so killing it was not an option, and general squeamishness precluded that anyway, for I am also of the Knights Who Say "Eww!" After several time-stood-still minutes, the rat found its way out of the room.

I was no longer hungry.