When I was young I lived in a commune of sorts, with artists and hippies* and what not. Every few weeks a couple of us did just that, because why wouldn’t we?

Also later when I worked in a group home for elderly autistic people in all shapes and sizes that experience came in handy as I was used to the smell. Usually I ended up doing the shittiest (harhar) cleaning duties and it never really bothered me even though we were supposed to rotate. One of the nurses with over a decade of experience refused to even enter a room while I was emptying the stomach contents of one particularly tricky patient (he essentially had plugs straight into his stomach for both in and output, they definitely generated some interesting smells).

Sure, I got paid for the latter half, but I still did that stuff daily for years.

Later when I became a father there was absolutely nothing that could faze me anymore. Sort of glad I got to experience all that, weirdly enough. I even miss that job sometimes, felt like I at least did something meaningful.