Kitten Poop and Hot Dogs

Wed. 12/14

Today is another 5 hour shift at the animal shelter. Things get off to a good start, but then somebody wants to see one of the kittens, and I discover her hind quarters and rear legs are covered in her own poop. Is there anything more pitiful? So I do the best I can to wash her off, with her screaming and flailing her little razor tipped claws all the while. I manage to get her cleaned up, and the lady adopts her (whatever it takes for a good cause I guess) but now my volunteer T-shirt smells of kitty poop, and I guess it’s OK because it goes well with the cat urine I got on myself because I handled a Persian who apparently peed all over herself coming out of anesthesia. So I feel I really earned my stripes today.

But then I walk into the break room, and some shelter employee is selling hot dogs for a buck apiece to help United Way. I of course oblige, but then she hits me up for a $10 scented candle, and this is where I draw the line, and politely say no. And I am reminded of another reason why I love not working anymore, and that is because somebody in any given office is always selling shit, and this is where political alliances among employees are drawn and torn apart. It should be banned. But anyway, the hotdog sets in motion a series of events that screws up my entire day as far as eating goes. I now forego the sandwich I brought that I was going to eat because now I am not hungry. Then, I eat the sandwich after my shift ends at 4 p.m. for an early supper.

I go to the fitness center and do a workout, and this is a good because I work out the frustration. I stop at the Publix for some needed supplies, and I don’t arrive back at the condo until 8:30 p.m. I’m hungry again, but it’s too late to cook the stuffed green pepper I was going to make for dinner. Instead, I eat a handful of pretzels and the rest of the day-old cookies I bought at the outlet mall, which of course are now two days old. So all in all, not a very good food day, and all because of a God-damned hot dog. And it wasn’t even a GOOD  hot dog, like a Nathan’s or a Hebrew National. It was some kind of Sam’s Club or Costco generic hot dog made from God knows what parts of the pig. So next time, better to just say “no” to the hotdog and feign Crohn’s Disease or something, and just throw a buck in the jar for Jerry’s Kids (or whatever).

When I finally get back to the condo, I immediately strip down to my underwear and throw my outfit into the washer because it has remnants of cat poo and piss on it, and I don’t want the kitties to come anywhere these clothes. Abby is already “on it” anyway when I walk through the door with her nose is sniffing the air like I just came out of a giant litter box somewhere.

I am really tired tonight and hit the sack around 10 p.m. Today was almost too much like actual work!

Expenses: $21 groceries, including $10 for coffee beans.

Bruce