Then I have to go transport a hamper of (clean) laundry from my car to my house in the pouring rain. Which means jogging because, uhm, wet. It's quite an interesting lope.
*Step* "SQUEAK" *step* "SQUEAK" *step* "SQUEAK"
Then I have to go and stub my toe on one of the uneven steps just to change up the beat.
*Step* "SQUEAK" "yowch!" *step* "SQUEAK" "yowch!" *step* "SQUEAK" "yowch!"
My housemate heard the tail end of my odd chant as I made it in the door with my clean, thoroughly-speckled clothes. "What the--?" asked she, quite logically.
"I did my laundry, it's raining, and my body squeaks." We both started cracking up as I stood doubled over my hamper. Sometimes that's all that's to be done with life's absurdities!
Now I'm going to go attend to my bleeding (expletive and descriptive) toe. All of you take comfort in the fact that I will never be sneaking up on any of you again.
[Crossposted from dreamwidth.]