*****

So, after 1 year and 9 months of being disease-free, I finally succumbed to the Martian Death Flu. Goddamnit. Almost two years since the last time I had a cold, a sinus infection, the flu...anything! Well. I did go a couple rounds with some sort of food poisoning thing, but that's not the same. Almost two goddamn YEARS, and now this. Bleh. And I had to miss the pumpkin festival, and I didn't get to carve pumpkins with friends this past weekend like I had planned, and I missed several outings, and it sucked, and I. HATE. BEING. SICK.

I blame the roommate for bringing this disease into the house. When she came home sniffling and sneezing, did she stay in her room like I asked? NO. Did she wear the Hazmat suit I so kindly provided? Spend time in the plastic bubble I bought for her? NO and NO. Nor did she let me hose her down with Lysol. She's just not a very good roommate, I'm afraid, and as a result, I'm now sickly and damn crabby about it.

My brother was gloating about being the only healthy one in the house, so I decided he should share in the disease. Every chance I got, I kissed his cat all over with my germy lips, making her poisonous to him. I knew that he would eventually pick her up and kiss her and cuddle her, and then my carefully placed opportunistic pathogens would strike! I also poisoned his dog's head just to be sure. I'm pleased to report my clever plan worked, and now the `mo is sick, too! Ha ha!

Of course, as it turns out, if every single person in a household is sick, there's no one to go out and get juice or cough syrup or tissues. In the future, I will plan my revenge more carefully. Note to self: Obtain necessary supplies before booby-trapping Tiny Kitty with germs.

Also, you know what is the suckiest thing ever? Cleaning up dog poop in the freezing cold pouring rain while you're all sickly and feverish. Misery, sheer misery.

You know, when you get a dog, every dog owner you know is full of advice. They give you tips about training, the best brands of dog food, the best kinds of toys and treats, and all sorts of other useful information for the new dog owner. The one thing no one tells you, however, is how much time you'll spend talking about poop once you get a dog. Seriously, it's all we ever talk about anymore.

Did the dog poop? Where did he poop? Did you clean up the poop? Does he look like he has to poop again? How many times has he pooped today? It just never stops, I swear to God. There's just so much talk about poop and dealing with poop. I had no idea having a dog meant every conversation from here on out would eventually lead to a discussion of dog poop.

With cats, it's just not the same. I mean, sure you have to deal with their poop, too, but not every day. With cats, especially if you have multiple litter boxes or are just really lazy pet owners, you have to clean up poop once every few days, maybe even as infrequently as once a week.

With dogs, it's every goddamn day, several times a day. And it's so...big. And gross. And don't even get me started on how disgusting it is to have to carry a bag of dog poop around when your dog poops while you're out on a walk. Blech squared.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I love Big Head Ted dearly, and I'm glad we have him. It's just going to take a while to get used to this whole poop thing.

This may very well be my grossest entry yet. Ew. I'm going to go away now, chug some more cough syrup, and think happy, non-poop-related thoughts for my next entry.

That is all. Carry on, bitches, carry on.

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