To get into my office, I take a flight of covered stairs that are outdoors. Recently, a pair of birds have built a nest in the corner of the roof over the stairs. Birds are delightful, except when they repeatedly crap in the same place, and that place happens to be the stairs that I take every day to enter and exit my office.

Did I mention that my office is located in a National Park? And that you’re not allowed to disturb birds or their habitat during mating season? Which happens to be now? Which means that for the next several weeks entering and exiting my office will invoke incredible anxiety about whether or not the birds will choose the exact moment when I am entering or exiting to relieve themselves?

It’s like a game of double dutch jump rope every time I enter or exit. I take a step forward, then back, then forward, then back, then run forward (either up or down the stairs at break neck speed), usually accompanied by a scream.

I was describing this process to my dear friend Collin. I sighed heavily and uttered, “My goal is just to make it through mating season without getting shat upon.”

He laughed, turned to me, and said, “Isn’t that everyone’s goal?”