Trigger warning….vomit ahead. If you don’t wanna read about snot vomit, please skip to the third paragraph.

I spent the second half of my day irritated because my coworker is the single most disgusting human being alive. He throws up because he refuses to blow his nose. I am not even joking. He admitted to it today, freely, with no urging from me. It is a regular occurrence. It happened just yesterday afternoon and he didn’t even bother washing it off before he came to work today. He also never washes his hands. I mean never. And by the way, I’m not talking about Double Fries David or Addison the Saving Grace. This is a new guy, y’all don’t know him. And you’re not going to, because I am embarrassed by him and wouldn’t want to make you feel obligated to pretend you aren’t totally repulsed upon introduction.

This is not to say he isn’t a nice guy. I feel confident in saying his mother has done the best she could. He’s not intimidating or anything like that. He’s just nasty. And this is nothing I wouldn’t say to him, and have, multiple times a day, since he started three months ago. I’m trying to help him improve his hygiene habits. It’s not working. If I wind up sick, I’m gonna string him up by his toes like a crow caught in the cornfield from the first light pole I come to. I’m washing my hands about fifty times a day and using Clorox wipes like it’s March 2020. I’ve eaten approximately a dozen tangerines since Monday afternoon.

I just had to get that off my chest.

>>>>>SAFE TOPIC: Now, in ways that I’m not perfect: I was making stuffed peppers. I like cumin seasoning a lot, so I don’t bother measuring it, I just sprinkle till my heart’s content.

Well, the sprinkle lid fell off about the time my heart was reaching contentment and I wound up with about a 1/4 cup instead of a tablespoon. Ah, well.

I had put in a load of laundry, my good work clothes, which included a new pair of pants. I thought I had gone over them really well for wayward tags. Obviously not, as I missed a glaring red one, which promptly disintegrated into sixteen teeny tiny sticky pieces and reattached to the other garments in the load.

Here I have been thinking I make a decent homemaker. I wasn’t worth two hoots today.

That’s all I’m gonna report on that, y’all deserve something better. And this is not going to be better, but I asked Fish for a number, and he gave me 221.

Writing Prompt #221 A superhero is trapped and his arch enemy talks at length about his disdain for superheroes. Write that monologue.

The only thing I know less about is math. Please don’t make me write about math. I had to research Superman (as that’s who springs to mind for superhero) and ended up way more confused and unsure than I started. Then I moved onto Batman. I felt marginally more equipped to write about him, since I’ve seen at least three Batman movies. Ok, the Joker. I know about him. I can do this, I told myself. You like bats.

Setting: A circus tent, garish flashing lights blaring from all angles and a disco ball hanging directly above Batman’s head, where he sits tied to a Tilt-a-whirl by laffy taffy. The calliope emits its teeth gritting tune, over and over and over. You can almost see the pupils in Batman’s black eyes turn into red and white targets, spinning relentlessly.

Joker: “Hey Batman, what’s red and bad for your teeth?”

Batman emits a low growl.

Joker: “A brick.” The Joker laughs manically, as The Joker is wont to do. Without missing a beat, he goes to the next one: “What’s blue but smells like red paint?”

No response from the Dark Knight.

“Blue paint!” The Joker cries, dancing around and twirling his cane.

“What’s green and has six wheels?” He continues, just like he had an audience that had paid a cover and was begging for more. “GRASS!!! I lied about the wheels!!” He bends double, clutching his stomach.

This had been going on for hours, relentless riddles and jokes. Batman said nothing. He just waited. He waited for darkness. His bats would come. And everybody was scared of bats, even the ones who didn’t have the sense God gave a goose.

{Fish, I started to write you as Aquaman, as I have referred to you in the past, but my knowledge of Aquaman only stretches to a few episodes of Big Bang Theory where Raj complains about having to dress up as him}

Not much love here tonight…this was too much like work. I didn’t even mention the mysterious blue line that popped up that I couldn’t get rid of for several anxiety ridden minutes. I still don’t know how I did. Those WordPress forums are beyond useless. I need a class where somebody holds my hand and then is available on FaceTime forever and ever, amen. I’m beginning to think I’m not much on challenges. I’m craving the mundane after this disaster.

Just plain Amy