It's a Dirty Job...

I think that my best time of the day is the morning. I seem to be more motivated to do things in the first half of the day. My creative juices are flowing, my need to organize and research are at their peak. Then there is the need to clean. The dishwasher usually goes on in the wee hours of the morn (cheaper hydro in the off hours, and who really wants to listen to the dishwasher anyway?) so I need to empty it. I usually eat my 1/2 English muffin whilst I put away the crockery. Well this morning as I left the warm confines of the shower I noticed the trap in the floor of the stall. I looked again and saw that there was hair hanging down to the black depths of "don't want to look down there land". I thought, hmmmm, I wonder if that thing will pop off and I can clean that hair out. If you have a weak stomach, you may want to stop reading- right now- because what I pulled out of that trap can only be described as a hairy alien slug of mammoth proportions. I tried to grab what I thought was a little clump of hair, but didn't have the strength to pull the weight of it out. Either that or the slug was trying to escape to the long dark confines of that black septic path. I went for backup in the form of "disposable" chopsticks, you know the cheap wooden ones you can get in a pack of 50 from the grocery store. The dryness of the wood was a blessing to grab on to this alien life form composed of many varieties and colours of body hair (yuck) and old soap scum not too mention loads of dead skin cells. I have a pretty strong stomach but this almost did me in, the only thing that stopped me from retching was the fact that I had to clench my teeth in order to summon up the strength topull this alien out and finish the job at hand. When I pulled out this monster it reminded me of the afterbirth of the cows out in the barn only this was dark grey. (Told you to stop reading if you had a weak stomach), I am proud of myself for wrestling this mass to the garbage and ultimately to the outdoor wood stove ( I am sure it will smolder for days!). Now when I step into the shower I will no longer have that feeling that something is looking up at me from the escape hatch in the floor. After removing all that evidence of a families washing frenzy I see where Ruffel's hairline has gone not too mention a little of my own.
Just call me Mike Rowe... till next time... doing the dirty job,
Cat x