When it rains, it shits, or something

I’m sorry I haven’t posted on time. Today’s excuse is: putridness.

No. Really. That’s totally a valid excuse.

You see, I am down to the last of my Projects That Must Be Done In Order To Officially Put House #2 On The Market. The basement, or, as I’ve come to call it – A Convenient Entrance To Hell.

I have a cement shower that needs to be scrubbed down and repainted, as well as multiple walls with those orange streaks that scream “WE’VE HAD WATER LEAK HERE!!! AND THE CURRENT OWNERS ARE NASTY NON-CLEAN PEOPLE!!” See. Screaming. With caps lock and everything.

Last night I tried to send myself into a relaxing coma by shooting bleach water straight up my nose. Which, of course, wouldn’t necessarily be coma-inducing were it not for the bleach fumes that I was clam baking in for oh, roughly, two or three hours.

I had to wash my contacts out three times before I could put them back in this morning.

This morning I trot my happy ass downstairs bright and early at 7:30, determined to get the shower painted before work/kids/husband/shitstorm. In order to paint a cement shower in the basement and have it not – ya know – wash off, you have to use a special waterproofing somethingy or ‘nother kind of paint. At least, I hope to hell the point of this is so that it doesn’t wash off. Or someone will die. Seriously.

ANYway, I’m clam baking painting away in the little shower stall when I suddenly find myself having horrific flashbacks of the zoo. I hate the zoo. Hate, hate, hate, hate loathe the zoo. So, suddenly finding myself daydreaming about the zoo is a little – well – odd.

I stopped for a minute to take my vitals, knowing that if I slipped into that coma now, I’d have to lay on the basement floor for a good 8 hours before anyone found me. I noticed the smell in the air had changed. It was no longer that pool shower smell of bleach and chlorine and insane sanitation. This was… sniff, sniff…. different…

Dear, God, BAM! It hit me. The fucking zoo flashbacks were coming from the smell. Apparently they turn regular paint into super duper waterproofing paint by infusing it with hippo piss and monkey poo. Because I shit you not my basement smelled EXACTLY like the large animal house at the zoo. Not like urine or manure or anything exactly, except for the large animal house at the zoo. That. EXACTLY.

It was awful. Absolutely awful. I began painting more quickly and breathing less deeply in an effort to spare a few of my.. uh… smelly bits or whatever.

And then, just as I was finishing up the first coat… the cherry on the muther fuckin’ ass cream sundae.

Someone farted. Like, bad farted. Like… coffee in the morning and this is your first fart since… farted.

I threw down my brush in defeat and shrieked, “that is it! I am DONE! A girl can only be expected to take so. fucking. much! And YOU have just pushed me over the edge!”

I stormed outside to enjoy the fresh air, smoke a cigarette, and fume with indignation over the absolute horror of it all.

Honestly. I have never been so disgusted with myself.

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