It's my spring break and since I don't have enough to do with my life - like spring cleaning and getting a head start on the reading for all my classes and generally just getting my life together - I've decided to create a blog instead. This is probably because I was looking for jobs that I could - hopefully! - get after college and became depressed at the words, "Five years work experience required," like it's that simple to get five years experience when every job requires it. So it seems like a great idea to just not worry about that right now and instead start my writing career in a much different way. A way that allows me to fail from the privacy of my own living room in a prolonged sense instead of failing before I've even started. Plus, here's a novel idea, I could actually succeed. And at the very least I'll be writing more which is super important. What's this blog going to be about, you ask? Everything. Life. Books. Things I've learned in class. Interesting things I've seen on Netflix. Crazy things that will inevitably happen to me while working. Crazy things that will inevitably happen to me due to the fact that I'm a clutz. You know, just normal stuff.
Essentially, I just want to write stuff. So I will. And hopefully people will actually read it. I don't actually have anything funny or witty to say write now, which is kind of shocking since I usually feel most creative after I'm supposed to be sleeping. So, instead of giving this whole big story, I'm just going to tell you what it's like to get attacked by a smallish rooster. Repeatedly.
I recently started new hours with my job - I work with people with developmental disabilities - where I am a job coach for what passes as a ranch out here. The set up is actually kind of cool, though. There are horses that need different supplements twice a day, a green house and other garden-y things, some desert tortoises, goats - which are some of my favorite animals - and of course, "free-range" chickens. At first I wasn't too sure about this free range thing, since the chickens don't spend all of their time out of the pen, but after being in charge of their foray into the world of free range I'm completely satisfied with how long they are outside of that wonderful little pen of theirs. One of my clients and I were tasked with the job of making sure they didn't get too far away from the house. We have to be able to find them, after all, if we want to sell the eggs. Everything started out fine; we were basically just herding them around, making sure they didn't go off the property and stuff. But then, when I was walking by a group of them, it was like the medium sized rooster just sensed something in me that he didn't like and - Bam! - attacked like a ninja. Seriously. The thing was fast. It ninja kicked and got my leg with the spurs on it's claw. And it ripped through my supposedly durable jeans. As much as this hurt, and oh man did it hurt, I had to be a professional. So, I just pushed it away with my foot. But after what was probably the fiftieth time this had happened I straight up retaliated with a swift kick in the beak. Unfortunately, that only made the little demon more angry. Probably understandably, from the rooster's point of view. And he retaliated on my retaliation by actually drawing blood this time.
It was fun, for sure. But it totally brought back my - perhaps not so irrational - fear of chickens. The thing is, that rooster still gives me the evil eye every time I walk by the pen. I'm pretty sure he is plotting my untimely death. Or at least the untimely death of every pair of jeans I own. Either way, it's not good. So here's hoping I can be stronger than a rooster that's actually not much bigger than a squished together chihuahua on steroids with the jumping capacity of an NBA player. No matter what happens, this experience has taught me a few things. Like, I can totally handle being attacked by a deranged rooster so long as it's not my clients being repeatedly rooster ninja-kicked. Also, chicken nuggets definitely need to be a bigger part of my diet. I mean, if a crazy rooster is going to harbor a grunge against me then I might as well make it justified by eating his cousins or whatever.
Anyway, I hope people actually read this thing! As our lovely friends at Chick-fil-A like to say, "Eat more Chicken!"
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