Not because I’m really holy.
But because of the absolutely disgusting experience I had when I got home from Mocha Club yesterday.
Let me back up a bit.
Wednesday, I thawed a bag of frozen chicken. FOR SIX HOURS. Whoops. So those eight chicken breasts [read: $7.99 of my precious income] got thrown away. Because there are a lot of good jokes I want to play on my friends, but giving them salmonella is pretty far down the list.
So those 3.5 chickens, plus some other foodie trash, was bagged and put in our outside trash can.
Thursday, we awoke to the trash attack of the year. I mean, this one was pretty severe too. But that was 2008.
Running out of time, I just thought I’d deal with it when I got home.
And boy oh boy was that a poor choice.
Because you know who else loves raw chicken and trash besides the overnight attacker?
[And let me warn you. This story gets a little barf-a-rific. So prepare yourself. Emotionally.]
So I grab a few trash bags and head out to the nightmare of raw foods that was strewn across my driveway. I just couldn’t take any pictures for you. I’m sorry. But I actually kept my eyes closed most of the time.
[Which leads to this question: If we can close our eyes, WHY CAN’T WE CLOSE OUR NOSE? I would have given anything for a pair of nose lids in that moment.]
I’m just going to give you the facts: there were over 50 flies, only 2 pieces of raw chicken left, and 12 audible gags.
But in the end, I came out victorious. I bagged the trash, put the lid on the can, and then placed a cinder block on top with hopes of said block of cement:
a) weighing down the trashcan, thus stopping the rodent from attacking two nights in a row OR
b) landing directly on the rodent’s head when he tips over the trash can.
Really, either is fine with me.
And afterwards, thanks to a complete lack of appetite, I took the opportunity to fast and pray.
Because I am nothing if not deeply disciplined and spiritual.
Have a great weekend.