In case you missed installment #1, I have been left by myself for the week during my Spring Break. No girlfriend. No work. The challenge...to see how many laws I DON'T break.
Although there wasn't much reason to get out of bed, I did. I was wearing the same underclothes (t-shirt and underwear) from the day before (spoiler alert)...
...and I wore them again all day today. There truly was no reason to do this since I have a drawer full of clean clothes...I just didn't get to changing. I'm going to try my best to shower tomorrow and change my clothes (no promises)...especially since I am going to go into work even though it is Spring Break. I don't have much else to do!
I'm thinking the girlfriend might have put a hex on me before she left because I have been sick the two days since she has been gone. Hard to get into any trouble when my own voice echoes in my head and I can't truly gauge the volume of it. I hope she takes the voodoo sticks out of my ears tomorrow. Might as well put them lower. Lower. Too low. There ya go.
As long as I got out of bed, I figured I might as well take my dogs to the park, and in case you didn't realize it, when you take dogs to the park...they poop. A lot. And often.
But did I bring poop bags with me? Of course not. That's usually Tauni's "job."
I get to the dog park and don't realize my gaffe until I am opening the gate. I panic because I know it is about t minus fifteen seconds before both dogs play their favorite game "Who can poop the wettest and stinkiest poop the fastest upon entering the park?" Hey, they came up with the name, not me. In case you were wondering, Maggie won...but honestly, there was truly only one loser...because I had to find a way to pick it ALL up.
Luckily(?), there were some plastic bags hanging inside another plastic bag on the fence for people like me, whose girlfriend is out of town. When all you have to bring to the park is (a) your dogs and (b) poop bags, and you forget one of those two things...you truly are a special person.
Anyway, I reach in the plastic bag that contains the other plastic bags so I can pick up the ten pounds of stinky poop that now awaits me...and I am greeted by moist wetness inside the plastic bag that is housing the other plastic bags.
My mind races...What the Hell is this? What could be on these bags within the other plastic bag. As I slowly remove my hand from the bag...I make a small prayer: Please, God. Please. Please don't let this be some practical joke punishing idiots who have forgotten to bring poop bags to the park. PLEASE...PLEASE...PLEASE don't let my hand be covered in dog poop because this isn't actually a plastic bag holding other bags to pick up poop...but a plastic bag containing bags that have already picked up poop!
It's amazing how quickly my mind can race when thinking I have stuck my hand in dog shit.
I remove my hand from the bag that was holding the other plastic bags...and found no shit on it. Whew! That's one battle won!
Now, I had to go down another path. And this has haunted me ALL DAY. Why were the bags within the plastic bag wet? What could that have been?
As I walked around the park wiping and re-wiping my hand on my jeans (that I had worn yesterday, thrown on the floor, and worn again because, why not?)...all I could do was think Pee. I stuck my hand in dog pee.
Why would I think this? I don't know. The wetness could have been any number of things. Dew. Rain. Anything. But no. In my mind...it was dog piss. And not only dog piss...but bacteria laden dog piss that now was crawling all over me.
But will I wear the same pants tomorrow that I wiped and re-wiped my hands on? OF COURSE!
Point being, none of this would have happened if my girlfriend went with me and brought the poop bags.
So really, this is all her fault....and I presume some kind of weird poo poo voodoo.