Handling plutonium would have been less horrific

I decided to be all domestic and shit this morning and all it brought me was a possible death sentence.

I should probably explain that statement.

In the middle of cleaning my apartment, I took the full garbage bag out of the garbage can. And noticed something at the bottom. In my defence, the inside of the can is black and I tend not to notice if there’s anything stuck at the bottom…which will never happen again because what has been seen? Cannot be unseen.

I’m assuming it used to be a piece of pizza, because it was triangular in shape, but that’s where any resemblance to actual food ended. It was grey and green and whatever the fuck had colonized on it had spread all over the bottom of the can. It looked like a science project about mold had gone awry and taken on a life of it’s own. After a few choice curse words and throwing up in my mouth, I put on an oven mitt with a plastic bag over top of it and gingerly eased it into another plastic bag inside a second plastic bag. I’m pretty sure people who handle plutonium transport it less carefully than I moved this alien creature. Then I realize I need to clean out the can itself, so I hauled out my trusty jug of bleach.

I should have thought that through a little more first.

Because you know what happens when you spray bleach into a mold colony? All the fucking mold spores react in horror and attempt to make their escape in a cloud of powdery dust, which caused a lot of shrieking and resulted in me tying a dishcloth over my face for protection, because at that point my thought was “sweet raptor jebus, how much of that shit did I just breath in???? My lungs are full of fucking mold spores! MOTHERFUCKING SPORES!!!” Which also made me realize there is an untapped market for home hazmat suits and respirators and why has someone not gotten on that shit???

Needless to say, once I finished the mold removal from the can, I spent the next hour bleaching every single surface of my kitchen, and another half hour in the shower scalding myself and scrubbing off the first couple layers of skin. I kind of felt like Meryl Streep in Silkwood, minus the radiation. But the hysteria was pretty close.

I’m really hoping all the bleach fumes I breathed in counteract the mold spores. Because I really don’t want to die a horrible death brought on by old pizza and my lack of good housekeeping skills. That would just be embarrassing.