I can handle a lot of things in life, but the one thing that I can't handle is poop.
This week has been very, very poopy.
Let me start off by saying that the Fourth of July sucks if you're a dog. I noticed that a certain dog in my life seemed kind of stinky on Thursday night. I tried to make her go outside, but she was panting, pacing back and fourth and panicking about the fireworks going off.
Fine then, dog, don't go outside. See if I care.
About 10 minutes later, she came back to me and was even more frantic than she was before.
I stepped out into the room to see what she was freaking out about, and I stepped in something mushy.
Something warm and mushy.
DOG!
I turned the light on, and my worst fears were confirmed. To put it mildly, the dog was very upset.
She was very upset ALL OVER THE ROOM.
There's no use in getting mad at her, so I put my adult pants on, gagged and threw up a little in the process, and cleaned the mess up.
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| Lovingly stolen from Facebook. |
One carpet cleaner I have doesn't work. It puts down the soapy water, but it doesn't pick it back up.
I wonder if the universe hates me sometimes.
After confirming the fact that it didn't work, I dragged another one out that finally did work. I haven't used it very much, and I'm not familiar with it enough to know how to get the water out.
I fumbled with it, got the plastic water thing out, then dropped the plastic container full of dirty, disgusting water on the floor. Of course, it came apart on impact and spilled all over the floor.
THE EFFING FLOOR THAT I JUST CLEANED.
I put my hair in a ponytail. You know shit's serious when the hair goes in a ponytail, people.
At midnight thirty on Friday morning, the situation was finally under control and the smell in my casa no longer made me want to toss my cookies.
I'm going to end this by saying that I don't feel good and I slept exactly zero hours on Wednesday night.
Life can be so shitty sometimes.
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