baby birds are not too lucky
Here's something I just realized. I just got walked all over by the people I work with. I was having a barbecue type thing and my cell phone rings and it's one of the girls I work with asking me if I would take care of a baby bird (this entails feeding it every two hours a concoction of dried seeds in powdered form mixed with really hot water, this means EVERY two hours even the wee hours of the morning), even though the two girls working there know just as much about the topic as I do. How do I get stuck with it? Cause I stupidly say "suuure I'll take care of him." Now, it's only two feedings later and I think I overfed him and I'm afraid he'll be dead soon and I feel so guilty I can't stand it. A few weeks ago a baby bird fell out of a nest on dan's roof and I took it home but he never even opened his mouth for food and I think that's because he had internal injuries. Needless to say, he didn't make it. Three days later, my pet finches finally had two eggs that hatched and then 24 hours later the babies were dead. What is it with birds and dying and me???
Also, right now despite the enormous amount of food I ate before I am really hungry. I hate eating this late, though, so I'll just wait until morning. Something to look forward to is camping at the end of June with I think 9 other people, none of whom will be older than mid-20 something so there will be no one who has rules for us so finally I can camp without feeling pressured to actually do anything to help. haha. yay.

Posted by Maleta at 1:11 a.m.