DJ (djtseliot13) wrote,

  • Mood:

Spit shine.

You know that day that you sometimes have? The one that leaves you wondering where, exactly, the off switch for the life-blender is situated?

The day where you wake up at 4:30AM to take your beloved to the train station for another few days of working apart from each other? The instant sickness snarling in the pit of your stomach when he interrupts your mascara application with, "come here! Someone is bleeding!"? The shock that you feel when you see bloody paw prints all over the floor, and blood spattered all over the walls? The snap second of panic when you see your dear little cat shaking rivulets of bright red blood from somewhere near his face? The frustration as the perceived helplessness sets in, even as you efficiently help your cat stop choking on his own fluids? The sense of utter resignation as train schedules and work commencement times flash behind your eyes? The haphazard dash to the car, leaving a hopefully healthy set of pets to await your return, while all the while you're praying to the gods of organization that you have everything you need to scrape out of the day intact? You know, the day where all of this has transpired by 5:20AM?

The day where you just manage to get your better half to the train station in time? Where you've subsequently broken every traffic law in at least two different countries in order to get yourself to work on time? The day that timing is critical, because you've somehow been placed in charge of a $1,000,000+/per day operation, and you have to lead an important safety meeting for 30+ people in relative states of disinterest/sleepiness? The one day your work crew decides to work twice as hard as they ever have before, leaving you with approximately 5 minutes out of a 12 hour day in which to inhale a semblance of lunch? The day where your boss in name only (definitely not in skill, knowledge, or experience) decides to send you just ONE more utterly unnecessary, needling and inappropriate text message? You know, that day?

The day where you make it home, only to realize that the dog has taken a rather unceremonious and certainly out of character dump in the hallway next to the bathroom? Surely you know the feeling of near-defeat when you realize that the fecal present is quite literally on top of the dried, bloody cat paw prints all over the tiles? The question of why the dog decided to relieve herself inside today specifically, when she's an outdoor pro the other 364 days of the year? The tiny seedling of satisfaction that takes root when you steel your resolve to first vacuum, then mop, and then scrub all traces of fur, blood, and poo out of your home? The slightly hollow feeling you recognize as hunger after all of the chores are done, and you suddenly conclude that dinner will not be preparing itself, after all? The disproportionate sense of well-being that replaces resignation when you opt to cook your dinner at home rather than brave the travails of take out food?

The day where the absolute sense of inertia that hits when you finally sit down and breathe renders you nearly incapable of performing mandatory acts of personal pre-bedtime hygiene?

You know that day you sometimes have? Did you know that on that day, you can even learn to polish a turd?
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