put that shit back on the shelf...

zen master mulysa, that is i...

who loves the cute little dots that follow the end of a sentence...

it implies that possibly there is more to be said than what has actually just been said...

ZEN: i am grateful for the friggin' ONLY toilet that i have in this house of 5+ people that is eternally damned to get clogged with EVERY OTHER trip to the bathroom.

once upon a time i would use this neat trick i came up with; which is to let the toilet fill up with as much water as it could possibly hold without overfilling, and (eventually) the weight of the tank filled with water would cause the toilet to clear, relieving moi of the extremely nasty task of actually plunging the toilet.

the only drawback to this method is that it tends to take some time. which isn't a problem when the quartet is at the ex-husband's house for a period of 2 or 5 days...

dot dot dot

or when there is another toilet in the house that everyone else can use instead...

dot dot dot

basically my damn toilet has flooded about 15 times in the past year. all because i have refused to use the plunger...

i have been embracing this opportunity to overcome my repulsion to use the plunger. some might ask: why? what's the big deal? wtf?

i have been known (by many, believe it) to clean up a lot of shit. there's actually a rather amusing story about this time i was in clinicals last august...

segue.

so i had an elderly man as a patient and i was supposed to give him his respiratory meds (albuterol mdi via trach.) and suction him. i come into his room and he is sitting in his chair and slumped over a portable table. i have to move him into his bed and as i proceed to do so, it seems he has crapped himself. my classmates and i called the nurses and waited for all of 45 minutes before i said, "crap on a crouton, gimme some wipes..."

and now i am affectionately known to some at school as "the ass wiper"...

i guess that's better than my other new nickname, "thunder pussy", which i have been knighted with by the ever annoying little girl whose ass i really wanna kick, if not for the fact that i am a growned ass mature woman.

yeah right, she is so goin' down...

anyhooters, the problem i have with caca is not cleaning it - no problemo. it's when i am in a predicament where i find myself having to break it up or squish it with something. my plunger is one of those accordion types and when "stuff" get sucked into it, i get so grossed out, i start gagging. the whole process makes me light-headed and nauseous...

back to zen. i am (i think i hope) finally overcoming this fear of having to plunge the toilet and am sending out a big "thank you!" to my toilet for forcing me to face my fear...

i've spied:

• myself in the car hollering, "MMMEEEEEEELLIIiiiIIIISSSaaaAAAAaaaAAAaaAA!!!".
• humility. i can still be funny and yet not so blatant... right, right?
• the little bally things that are left in a sifter that you don't see when you're actually sifting the flour, but are all so apparent when all the good stuff has been filtered out...
• cat roadkill this morn' spied by 12 yr old, D1. i made him laugh by getting really excited about it.
• 3 new shelves stacked on my bookshelves in my room.
• a cookbook that's getting some good use.
• thyme. i love it. it really made the chicken & dumplings for dinner last nacht.
• alice going down the chute to wonderland on the ever-tiring, ever-frightening, ever-lasting search for her white rabbit. i hope she finds peace with the mad hatter and doesn't get lost in the flower garden...