Saturday, August 26, 2006


At times, I can be so irritable, and about the smallest things.

See, I have two dogs, whom I love dearly, who love to eat gross items of a feminine or personal hygiene nature. Anything in that classification of items, they view as delicacies. Gag. For example, dirty Q-tips, used kleenex, and unmentionables of the feminine nature. Used. Gag again. I have a small trash receptacle on my nightstand where I discard Q-tips, otherwise I would wake up with little bald pink sticks all over the floor every morning. No lie.

My major problem is currently the master bathroom trash. Where I discard the unmentionables. Not the monthly unmentionables, just the daily "freshness" unmentionables. With me so far? Okay, so the bathroom door will not close all the way because of I don' t know what, probably foundation issues that I don't even want to think of. Bear sneaks in there in the dark of the night and knocks over my heavy metal with a foot pedal trashcan, and drags unmentionables and ick and yuck all over my bathroom and bedroom. Every night. So I've been putting the trashcan in the closet or the bathtub every night, but it just DRIVES ME CRAZY to have to retrieve it every morning. Because I use that trashcan every day, all day long.

Oh crap, I just figured out the answer, and the now all two of my readers will know that I'm a lazy ass, because I bet my mother-in-law would say, "Why don't you just empty the can every night before you go to bed?" And I guess I should. Except that I'm a lazy ass, as I may have already mentioned. But I guess emptying the stupid trash can every night is not as bad as having ick and yuck all over the place every morning.

Okay, thank you for your attention. Peeve solved.

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