When a shitty week ends...

  So, this week has been pretty rough in a few areas.  Work and relational stuff just kept heaping the joy onto my head relentlessly.
  The relational stuff is what it is and we worked it out but that on top of getting talked to by the owner and the boss and then a crew chief meeting that could have been better... Just a shit week. 

 ... So here we are on Friday, and to start the day off, Moxie refused to go out for a bathroom break. I know what that means.  It's always the same end result, but I tried to get her out anyway.. Didn't happen.  Try moving 95 lbs of unmoving dog while late for work. 
  So I left her with a warning about pooping or peeing while I was at work. Doggy Jail (the kennel beside her bed, for a time out). 
  Sure enough I get home to 'the smell'. That awful stink of dog shit. 
   I HAD been happy to have this tough week behind me.  I WAAAAS excited for the weekend and the plans and for coming home to the pup. 
  But then then stench hit me like a slap.  Eyes watering, gagging, dreading what I knew was waiting for me in the laundry room/puppy bedroom. 
  ...
And there it was, the largest pile of shit is ever seen in my entire life, that wasn't a farm animal. It was bad.  Really, really, (I can't stress this enough), bad. 
  I quickly grabbed a couple of rolls of toilet paper and spray cleaner and started the clean up job. 
  Problem number 1... The 'package' was too big for me to single scoop
  Problem number 2... Toilet paper getting soaked through
  Problem number 3... The seven steps to the toilet bowl were an eternity away...
  
  Nothing for it but to start the trek. 
  I scoop up a shit load (god, I wish I was being metaphorical), and with a quick prayer to whichever higher authority was listening, through gritted teeth, I move towards the toilet.  
  The paper rips and half of the pile drops not the bathroom floor with a massive, sloppy, poopy splat. 
  So. Now my bathroom is covered in shit, my laundry room has a massive shit pile still to be cleaned in the same format (aka running for my life with handfuls of poop from one room to the next in the sad hope that it won't fall on the floor. 

... Really, this is the perfect metaphor to my week. 

  The end result is a super clean bathroom and laundry room floor. 
  I've survived the poopiest of poops and the shittiest of weeks. I'm just holding on for this weekend and an enjoyable time. 
  I hope the same for you, readers.  

  

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