Today I went into the office to hang out and interview some guy that had very short pants on. He seemed ok, but I’m not crazy about him. I had to go to my bank, because I have become a hermit that doesn’t really leave the house during BUSINESS HOURS, and had a bunch of checks to deposit… and then to the other bank to deposit business checks. I had quite a day ahead of me depositing all these checks, so was looking forward to eating some potbelly outside and reading a book.

I did all that, and it was fine. looked like rain, but no biggie. then I got hit in the back by a rock or something, or maybe just my bag. I felt around, briefly, but was riding scooter, so maybe half a second, so I could determine that I hadn’t been shot and/or killed in the back. few minutes later, my hand has white powder on it. Oh. That’s… oh ok. WTF. I check my bag, and it seems to have BIRD POOP on it. I take it off, stash it under the seat and pray that it’s not all over my shirt. decide: maybe potbelly isn’t such a good idea, because that’d be embarassing.

Anyway, I get home and the back of my shirt is covered in disgusting condor shit. I’m feeling grateful that I didn’t go to potbelly, though, because apparently something fucking terrible was going to happen there. I stainsticked and washed my shirt repeatedly, but left my bag on the stairs for tomorrow’s self to take care of.

DISGUSTING.