I worked the 3-12 shift today. Already not my favorite shift, but it's hours and I'll take what I can get!
While working, there weren't enough people. I couldn't tell you why other than people were calling in and we're understaffed. As I was answering several messages on my handheld, I walked into a literal landmine.
I heard the shouting a bit too late...
BAM. SQUISH. Right in poop. My foot was covered in fecal matter from some person who had been there not less than 3 minutes before. My sneaker was covered in it. GROSS. Just for the visual effect, it was NOT firm stool and it looked like the person sprayed in a diameter of 3 feet. I was wheel-chaired outside so that I wouldn't step on the floor and was hosed off with the water hose in the garden center.
Back to work I go.
Fast forward to 12AM. My feet are KILLING ME. I take a step and hear the "WAIT!!!" just before I step down. They have decided to re-stripe the parking lot. Luckily my shoes and feet don't have to go through the paint, but instead go through a ridiculously long way (remember, feet hurt) to my car.
I get home, dreaming of the foot massager that DBF got me for Christmas. I get everything set up, get my meal next to me in the armchair, plug in the machine and go to set it down. At which point I drop the thing. Somehow on a corner (luckily rounded), which, invariably lands on my previously broken toe.
NOT a good day. On the bright side, my cranberry grape juice tastes DELICIOUS.
While working, there weren't enough people. I couldn't tell you why other than people were calling in and we're understaffed. As I was answering several messages on my handheld, I walked into a literal landmine.
I heard the shouting a bit too late...
BAM. SQUISH. Right in poop. My foot was covered in fecal matter from some person who had been there not less than 3 minutes before. My sneaker was covered in it. GROSS. Just for the visual effect, it was NOT firm stool and it looked like the person sprayed in a diameter of 3 feet. I was wheel-chaired outside so that I wouldn't step on the floor and was hosed off with the water hose in the garden center.
Back to work I go.
Fast forward to 12AM. My feet are KILLING ME. I take a step and hear the "WAIT!!!" just before I step down. They have decided to re-stripe the parking lot. Luckily my shoes and feet don't have to go through the paint, but instead go through a ridiculously long way (remember, feet hurt) to my car.
I get home, dreaming of the foot massager that DBF got me for Christmas. I get everything set up, get my meal next to me in the armchair, plug in the machine and go to set it down. At which point I drop the thing. Somehow on a corner (luckily rounded), which, invariably lands on my previously broken toe.
NOT a good day. On the bright side, my cranberry grape juice tastes DELICIOUS.