Except that it is 11 degrees, the snow has melted to reveal the massive amounts of dog poop on my front walk and I jammed my ring finger toe on the step stool in the bathroom. Let’s begin with the 11 degrees thing…
It’s March. It’s the end of March. This should be sweatshirt weather. Instead, we are still hunting for hats and mittens. One of the perks of living where I live is the changing seasons. So, when winter decides to not leave when it is supposed to we feel jipped. Or maybe righteously pissed off is a better phrase. But it has been sunny! Which has helped all the snow to melt. Which means the dog poop is all exposed.
See, it has been so cold that my kid has been just opening the front door and letting the dog do his thing while she stands inside. So, “his things” are all over my front walk. This was a non issue when we had snow covering it up. I have to wonder about the food I feed this dog. I feed him the higher end stuff that supposedly has no chemicals or fillers… then why the hell doesn’t his poop disintegrate? If the sun is strong enough to melt the snow and ice, I have to conclude that it should be warm enough to melt the poop.
The mail lady left a note in my box that I had to go to the post office to get the mail because the front walk wasn’t shoveled. I think that is just a nice way of telling me she doesn’t want to walk through the mine field of dog turds. I don’t blame her. I also am not going to the post office to get my mail because, why bother? I’m not going to make an effort to go collect bills and collection agency notices and bounced check alerts. It’s just depressing.
So, let’s look at this in the positive. It’s March and 11 degrees which means I don’t have to look at my fat arms in a tank top for at least another two months and the dog poop has successfully kept all of my bills at bay! Really, what do I have to complain about? Nothing!
Except my toe. How does it happen that you see the step stool, you are walking in what you deem (at 41 years of age, having at least 40 years of walking experience) a reasonable distance from the step stool and yet you pick up your foot, sort of lift it up behind you and then SLAM it into the stool you are looking RIGHT AT. How does that happen? Of course it is the most pain I have ever experience in my life including child birth and the canker sore.
Now I am not one of those high drama people like my bff who sounds like she just discovered a dead body when she stubs her toe. No, I am more of an immediately violent person. I want to smack someone and I spill swear words that even I have never heard before. Then I walk it off, laughing because I don’t want to cry. What the hell is that about? It’s like biting my tongue. I have had the same tongue in the same place for 41 years. How the hell can I accidentally bite it. And bite it so hard it bleeds. Or missing the last step of the staircase in the house where you have lived for 8 years. Same amount of stairs, nothing has moved and at least once a month I just forget that there is that last step and give myself a minor heart attack.
All in all, I suppose it’s not a horrible day. Then again, it’s only mid-afternoon.
Sometimes I get water up my nose in the shower through my eye. That is never as fun as it sounds like it would be.