Sasha Is a Monster

Leo made a wee-wee on the carpet this morning. I used a bunch of paper towels in the clean-up process, the tossed them into the toilet, and, as I was doing that, I was thinking, “There’s a decent chance this will clog the toilet.” But I flushed anyway. The toilet clogged. I didn’t have a plunger at home (must have been jettisoned during the move) and I was running late for a meeting at work. So I just left it, knowing I’d get a plunger on my way home and fix it, but the whole time I was driving to work and walking to the parking lot I just had this realy nauseous, gross kind of feeling, like every cell in your body feels that something isn’t right. I marvelled at it. “Wow,” I thought. “I’m this upset about a clogged toilet?” Normally I alllow my entire home to fall into disrepair without giving it a second’s thought. I was almost proud of myself.
I got to my desk, went to get a soda, and I’m still feeling very off. “Sasha,” I told myself, “You’ll fix the toilet when you get home. It’s okay, calm down.” It didn’t work though, that feeling of nausea and the nagging in my brain didn’t quit.

I went through the whole workday like that, until, on my drive home to actually buy the plunger, it hit me: I’m getting sick! I’d seriously had NO IDEA what could be making me feel like that other than the clogged toilet. But, no. I’m sick.

So, I plunged the toilet and I’m spending the rest of the night taking it easy.

I know, I know. I’m waiting for the comments. “Beet, you’re always sick!” I’m not really. I get really sick once in February and once in July. I’m almost 100% certain that my stress around those times of year is why I always get really sick. The rest of the time it’s just litte colds, etc. So hopefully this’ll be a one or two-day thing and then I can move on with my life.