I found a turd on my desk this morning.
An actual poop.
Just one tiny tootsie roll, all by itself, still fresh. Puppy sized. But there was no way for the puppy to get on my desk, and, also, he wasn’t in my room. Which means the turd just spontaneously materialized there. Or someone put it there. Except WHO WOULD DO THAT so I’m going with Option A — spontaneous materialization. I cannot accept the horror show alternative that I’m STUCK IN MY HOUSE QUARANTINING with a MONSTER who deposits mini poopies, hot off the presses, ON MY DESK.
So we have a puppy whose poop has the magical ability to transport itself. Is it sentient? Did it intentionally beam itself up? Did it choose my desktop as its Final Resting Place? Did I thwart its nefarious purpose when I picked it up with my bare hands because I incorrectly assumed it was a dry, petrified poopy and flushed it down the toilet? Or was it simply, instinctually drawn to my desk because I just washed it? Like, is the poopy in cahoots with the Rest of My House to frustrate and impede Every Effort to clean it? Did it sense a recently decluttered, scrubbed surface and, because it was created in my home, inherently understand neat and orderly places are not allowed to exist herein? Was it therefore obligated by some sort of Law of Filthy Dynamics to foil or stymie or circumvent any of my aspirations toward a more hygienic environment?
That’s how quarantine is going, Diary.
P.S. It was this butt nugget.
I’m sure of it.
But also, I don’t care because OMG HE SLAYS ME.