Tuesday morning

Tuesday morning means one thing to me - trash day.

I have to wheel my giant blue trash cans to the road. Yes plural. With four boys, two Boxers (dogs not Ali and Frazier) one cockatoo, a chimp and a midget we accumulate a lot of trash. Although even with two cans it's not a hard task but it is a job I don't like for many reasons. Most of all it is time sensitive.

I do not like doing things on someone else's schedule. I didn't pick Tuesday. I didn't pick early afternoon as my pickup time. Why can't I pick my day and time?

I have been told if we all picked our own day and time it would cause the system to be inefficient. I say listen to me again! I don't want you to pick your time. I WANT TO PICK MINE!!!!

The trash Gods can then work the rest of you around my day.

In fact they could simply send a pickup truck for mine. If they did it would make no sense for me to wheel the cans the 125 feet to the road. They could pull up to the house dump the cans and be on their way. Just like I know they do at the mayors house. He isn't fooling me. That chubby little goof doesn't wheel his can anywhere. He barely pushes them out of his garage and the rest is done by the garbage people. If they can do it for his immenseness they can do it for me.


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