An ever-growing horror...

I share the events of today in the hope that someone will read back over some of the aspects of my life and tell me it's all totally normal.  I might then feel better and the suspicions that there is a cosmic conspiracy against me might start to fade.  In short, The Fates have again yanked my chain and y'know, I just wish I could have seen my face throughout that half hour.  

...for that's all it took.  HALF A FUCKING HOUR to make me question my purpose on this planet again.  Let me start - oh, and for the non-believers please let me reiterate that everything I write is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth (with my jaded comedian's view of the matter).

Let me set the scene.  As regular readers know I share a house with my best friend 'The Tidiness Nazi'.  I am in fact the 'anti-tidiness Nazi' so I guess that would make me her nemesis in some way. Not only this, I am frequently a monumental fuck up to the point I'm not allowed to use the kitchen if she's not around.  There have only been a couple of fires and scaldings.....and an electrocution but I still maintain I'm an adult and should be treated so.  I also share the house with an elderly cat who has mental health issues and will not go out during daylight hours, a hairy dog with a form of extreme medical stupidity and a mostly bald dog who not only eats all of the cat's food but also loves me to the point of ridiculousness.  Today, the Tidiness Nazi went out for the day and left me in charge of the critters.  

Things HAD been going well; I'd cleared the junk off the window sill of my bedroom and had started to put the cat food up there which the cat was enjoying.  She now sits in the partly open window enjoying the stuff other cats do when they are outside.  The hairy dog was downstairs occasionally woofing at passers by and running in and out of the back yard.  The bald dog?  Why, he was curled up with me having a lie in.  

The time came to get up, do my laundry and consider getting ready to take the dogs for a lovely walk at the creek.  I started to bimble about and worked my way downstairs.  Hey, the sun's shining and it's a beautiful day.  I'd love to eat something but I'm not allowed in the kitchen.  Sigh........

I went upstairs and, through the open door of the Tidiness Nazi's bedroom, I spied a line of drips of rather wet dog shit.  Turning to my faithful hound I yelled the usual "What have you done!" He, realising he was in for a right Royal bollocking, headed off down the stairs and out into the garden.  Tutting, I wearily got the cleaning gear out and made good before the Nazi returned home and we were all collectively in trouble.

I then went into MY room to find.............the most enormous wet dog skid mark I have ever seen.  ON MY FUCKING BED!  "OH JESUS CHRIST" I yelled out loud this time as I wearily started to strip the bed.  As I got to the side nearest to the window I actually stopped with horror.

Yup, the next horror stopped time momentarily.  There was partially digested CAT FOOD VOMIT all down the wall, on the floor and all over my stuff which included shoes, a soft turtle toy I use as a pillow sometimes and paperwork.  Eyes wide I tried to take in the scene.  There was FAR too much vomit for one cat, I've seen cat vomit in my time but I'm sure her stomach couldn't have held THIS much food!  Couldn't the little bastard have done  it out of the window?  Did she invite other cats in THROUGH the open window for a feline bulimia party?  I think "FOR FUCKSAKE!" my expletive of choice on this occasion.

...you think this is all?  

You'd be wrong.

I stripped the bed and threw everything down stairs ready for the laundry.  I was wondering where I would find the mental strength to deal with the wall of vomit but deal with it I must.  Even more wearily I went back into the Tidiness Nazi's room to fetch the cleaning stuff......

...It was only NOW that I spotted the enormous turd and a diarrhea IN HER BED - NEXT TO THE PILLOW!  The shitty drips had been just a warning of the true horror within that room.  I think that one of my eyes started to twitch at that point, my hand became a claw and the words got stuck in my throat.  I think I tried to yell "HOLY MOTHER FUCKING FAAACK JESUS ON A FUCKING FUCK FUCK FUUUUUCKING FUCK!" ...or words to that effect, but they just came out as "Jejeje ffffffffffff".  Starting to seriously die inside I cleared up the turds and stripped off her bed.  By this time the little dog had come to the bottom of the stairs to see what was going on.  In an act of wasted breath I yelled at  him a bit more until he ran back outside to play happily in the sun.  

By this time, my mental capacity was becoming diminished and I stomped around upstairs muttering to myself and thanking the deities for taking the piss out of me again.  Heading back into her room I noticed something which made my blood run cold

A shitty partial shoe print on the Nazi's mattress.

Had I not had enough? The more I looked around me the more I noticed there were shitty footprints all over the fucking house.

With dawning horror I looked at the bottom of my shoes.  Yes.  You are there already aren't you?  There was undiscovered shit and I'd trod in it and walked it ALL OVER THE HOUSE.  

Fearful of an embolism I said  nothing.  I tried to clean the bottom of the shoes in the sink but hell, they had knobbly bottoms.  OF COURSE THEY HAD KNOBBLY BOTTOMS which meant that the shit was nice and embedded in.  I might even have started to laugh manically to myself at this point.  I know I uttered no other word as I went around the upstairs of the house on my hands and knees cleaning up my own shitty footprints.  I found the other shit site.  Foolish of me to have not started at the beginning and worked out that that the sequence was BED - RUG NEXT TO THE BED - DRIP ACROSS THE FLOOR - ONTO SKET'S BED FOR AN ARSE WIPE (horrified cat vomits?).

That's the problem with being a detective - if your first clue isn't the start of the mystery you end up with shit everywhere.  Ask Sherlock Holmes.