Dead bird

Day 2 of 3650 in the new office space. I got to the train station nice and early, and there was a single prime spot waiting for me. It seemed a bit odd, because the rest of the good lot was parked up, but I’m not choosy. So I backed in, stepped out of the car, and felt a weird squish. I half-glimpsed down and thought I’d stepped in a plastic grocery bag filled with trash or something, because the Bay Shore lot isn’t always the cleanest. Then I looked again. It was a dead bird. I’d plunked my foot down into a dead bird. Ugh.

It wasn’t one of those little sparrows, either. My estimate of the thing’s size kept increasing throughout the day – it was a crow, then a seagull, then finally an albatross. I’d ruined my car’s frame by backing over it. When I got home this afternoon, it turned out to be “probably a blue jay.” A couple of pigeons dressed as cops were just finishing drawing an outline around it in bird seed when they saw me and tried to arrest me. I managed to climb into my car and speed off, looking back only to see them both shrug and start to peck at the millet outline they’d been making.

And to top things off, a mouse chewed through the water line on the dishwasher. God, I hate vermin.