Remember when Monday and nature combined forces against me?
Well, this week they're back. I was taking out the recycling Monday morning (still half asleep I'd like to note, having not even finished my coffee) and as I walked back up the steps I saw a discarded plastic wrapper by the front door. I reached down to pick it up and noticed it did not feel like one would expect a plastic wrapper to feel. Oh, that's because it was a two foot long MOLTED SNAKE SKIN. In my BARE HAND.
After screaming, throwing it on the ground, and dancing around shaking snake bacteria off my hand for ninety seconds, it hit me. While a snake skin is awful, and a snake skin in my bare hand is really awful, the fact that the owner of that skin - a snake - was six inches from my front door at some point is approximately three thousand times worse.
I think the lesson here is that I need to avoid Mondays altogether. And that molted snake skins look surprisingly non snake skin like from a distance. And also, that I can never use the front door again.