Why am I boiling water?
Well, you see, I'm at the cabin and there's only an outhouse to do your business. I'm supposed to be off until after easter but some issues at work mean that I have to make some angry calls on a Friday morning. I'm worked up.
In close to 20 years, I've never dropped a #DivaCup in the toilet. My fingers become grippers of steel when handling a diva cup. But not today. Today, I'm worked up. Today, my hands aren't steady. And I feel the diva cup twisting and sliding. And a soft thump.
nnnooOOOOOO. NOOOOOO. I'M FAR AWAY FROM ANY STORE. AND I'M ALREADY PISSED.
Delusion comes to the rescue and think it'll be fine if I fish it out. FINE, I SAY. I'm looking in there and if you know anything about diva cups, you're already thinking "it's outhouse-camouflage color omg". Excuuuuse me but I take great care of my diva cup, how dare you, but also yes, right now, yes, it is outhouse-camouflage color omg. Several minutes of looking and loud complaining later, I think to myself "hmmm there's not a lot of blood in there, _where's the rest_". So I look under the plywood base and to the side, and I find the rest. It's EVERYWHERE. Along with the diva cup (yay!), it has been ejected horizontally and to the right, onto the sand by the outhouse.
And that's how I'm boiling water now and I'm about to have to figure out a way to clean the outside of the outhouse. I hate today.




