I’m on one crutch today, but still in my boot. My ankle is getting better. I can put all of my weight on it, which makes getting in and out of the tub a little easier these days.
So I got adventurous. Decided that instead of using the 5th floor bathroom with the big stall with handle bars, I’d go to the one on the 5th floor without.
And stepped in human excrement. Exactly what is going on in a fellow woman colleague’s life that she can dribble that on the floor and not clean up, or not even know?
And what exactly is going on in my life that I’m stepping in it?
So I came back, got busy with my personal stash of Clorox wipes and cleaned off the boot, asked an office mate to spray the bottom of my boot and my crutch with Lysol, and my rug, and then I went back down to the other bathroom and washed up.
I choose this to be the worst event of my day, week, month, year. Worse than popping my Achille’s tendon. Worse than being a medical services utilizer.
Here’s a message for the universe: Quit messin’ with me. I’m a good person and I deserve better.