Dissociated Thoughts

Burnt Toast and Dog Farts

Have you ever had One Of Those Days? You know the kind I'm talking about. The ones where you know from the moment you wake that the day is going to be working against you. Today is that kind of day for me. But it began much earlier than daylight. It began in the wee hours of the morn, before a lot of the youngsters are ending their previous day.
I awoke to a whining, and a horrible smell. Nixon pup was nudging me with his nose trying to wake me, I can only assume so he could go outside. The store's been out of his usual food, so we had to buy a replacement - and it seems that the new food does not agree with the delicate digestive tract of a 100 lb. German Shepherd. Because of his tummy issues, he woke me many times through the night; some of those times by the smell alone.
So, I got out of bed the last time grumpier than normal; a girl's got to have her sleep after all. I walked out of my bedroom to a house that looked like a war zone. Then I vaguely remembered the cats coming inside during one of the dog's frequent potty breaks. Psycho kitty had been at it again. He has this thing about knocking off pretty much anything from anywhere above floor level. I ushered the fur brats out to the back yard so I could have a bit of quiet time and eat my morning toast. The darned toast of course had to pop up from the toaster burnt and as stiff as a crouton.
But I ate my burnt toast (no reason to waste food) to the tune of a dog whimpering at my back door, crying to come back inside. I had no sooner let the mutt in and he had laid down when he farted so loudly it startled him enough to make him jump up and look around. And the noxious gas creeped around the living room and gagged me. Yup. It's gonna be One Of Those Days.

Cirque de la Vie had come home for a visit.