Cake Anyone???

It probably looks delicious, yes?...  Well it's not.

Yesterday, for some inexplicable reason, I could not find the strength to crawl out of bed in a timely fashion.  I communicated this to Moose.  Her indulgent response provided ample justification for my impulse.  I was taking a personal day.  Armed initially only with a vague notion of what I'd spend this free day doing, I would shortly thereafter act in strict accordance with my adult programming by turning a great idea into cake made of pee pee and poo poo.   

By the time Moose said goodbye I was wide awake, mind overflowing with lame crap that I had been meaning to do for some time, but, for varied reasons, hadn't.   From amongst the list, which I actually put to paper by 8:30am:

• Move money from one bank to another to take advantage of higher interest rate 
  
• Pick up dry cleaning
  
• Surf the net for information pertaining to upcoming Costa Rica trip
  
• Make Dr.'s appointment for physical, something I haven't had in over 5 years  
  
• Make eye Dr.'s appointment to address declining vision
  
• Make dermatologist appointment to have freckles and mole's inspected by a licensed professional
  
• Shave pubes
  
• Speak to bank regarding ongoing identity theft investigation
• Pay bills
• Go for a long bike ride
• Pick up role of quarters
• Do laundry

You should be very proud, because I made it through the entire list.  Technically.  I was down to my third and final load of laundry, walking down to the basement to empty the dryer and transport my whites from the washer, when I noticed a steady stream of liquid dripping from a pipe that runs along the ceiling down on top of the washing machine.  As I got closer I noticed the liquid wasn't quite clear.  Closer still, a familiar stench infiltrated my nose.  My worst fears were confirmed:  Pubic hair, fresh pee, toilet water, and pubic-pee-poo cake - a rare amalgamation of old urine, pubes, and old doodly plip plop - separated me from my undershirts and socks.  Now, I don't have kids, but I know understand parental instinct, because one arose inside me at that moment, like a mother risking her own life to save a child from drowning....in a septic tank.  As soon as there was a break in the stream, I pulled open the washing machine, determined to save my laundry from my neighbor's excrement, no doubt poised to rain down on us both without prejudice.  But alas, a miscalculation!  As I opened the door to the washing machine, a stream of toilet water and pubic-pee-poo cake infiltrated the washing machine's main cabin, and subsequently the garments that know me best.

Though, obviously, my neighbor was not to blame, I couldn't control my rage.   Cursing her fat disgusting slob ass (I've never seen her before), I threw my soiled, through no real fault of my own, whites into the dryer, knowing full well that, at best, there was another wash and dry cycle in our shared future.   

Should have gone to work.