Filth

I am the world's worst housekeeper. I believe that's indisputable. And yet what happened last week freaked even me out.

First, my bathtub was stopped up. So I snaked and plunged it, loosening stuff and letting it come from the drain into the tub. I identified hair and globs of the clay mask I use a couple mornings a week. A lot of it I couldn't identify, and didn't want to. Before I could rinse and scrub it away I had to wipe away the big stuff. So I grabbed the white towel from the rag drawer. When I was done, it was creepy/ooky.

Then I went out for brunch. On the way back, a pigeon pooped on my head. Talk about creepy/ooky! The birdshit felt warm as it ran down my face! I couldn't get home fast enough to wash it off. Once again, I reached for the big, dirty white towel because I didn't to ruin my linens with pigeon poop.

I washed the big white towel and not all of it came out. That's how filthy it was. It went through the washer and still came out filthy.

This weekend, it gets bleached. If any of the creepy/ooky is still visible, I'm giving it up to the dumpster.