Just providing a community service to make you feel, no matter how crappy your friday morning has been, at least it didn’t start off as lousy as mine.
Starts with the regular routine. Wake up, shower, dress, head downstairs. Let the dog out front to get the paper and head to the kitchen to make coffee. Go back to the front door to let the dog in. Then, 15 minutes into your morning it hits you. As your grinning dog prances into the front hallway with the paper, she brings with her – the lovely aroma of skunk! Yep, old Daisy seems to have stopped off on her way to the parkway to stick her nose up a skunk’s butthole, and she has skunkstank all over her face.
And, by letting her into the house in my unsuspecting, still-half-asleep condition, I have let the skunkstank into my house. First order of business, toss the dog back outside (restraining myself from gratuitously booting her in the ass to help her out the door.) Quickly remind myself that 6:15 a.m. is just a little to early to start drinking heavily, and fetch the shampoo. Then head outside to wash and rewash what I am now incapable of thinking of as other than “that damn dog.”
For those of you not in Chicago, did I mention it is raining this morning. Long story short, wash the dog 3 times IN THE FUCKING RAIN! Don’t think we’ll ever be able to get that out of her collar. Shove her in the garage for the time being.
Head back into the house just as the lovely Mrs. D is stumbling down the stairs, squinting against the light, saying, “Do you smell something?”
Thank god the early morning snort of skunk cleared my mind enough (I had not yet had a sip of coffee!) that I did not respond what I was thinking. Yes, I know what she is going to say next. here comes: “You let her into the house after she’d been skunked?!” Realizing that this is not intended as the basis for a productive and mutually supportive discussion, I simply go about lighting candles. Can’t open any windows cause all around the house it smells like a truckload of skunks exploded! Swallow some coffee, make my lunch, and trot to the train (in my hurry, forgetting to bring the paper that started this chain of events).
So I’m sitting on the fucking train, twiddling my thumbs (no paper to read), when the guy next to me asks, “Do you smell skunk?” Fuck me up the ass with a rusty hedge trimmer! I must have gotten some of that shit on me when I was washing that damn dog, and now I have it on me.
So at this moment, I’m sitting in my office, smelling fucking skunk. I have washed my hands maybe 10 times. At this point I don’t know if I am actually smelling skunk, if it is lodged inside my nose somehow, or if I am having nasal hallucinations. And I have been awake for a grand total of 2 fucking hours.
The best I can hope for is, whatever else happens, it will take quite a bit for things to go downhill from this. Man, I hope my boss has the sense to stay clear of my closed office door.
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