A couple weeks ago, we got a card in the mail, saying that our trash pickup day was going to be changed from Monday to Wednesday. Why- I have no idea. The ways of the trash company cannot be fathomed. Anyway, I said, okay. No biggie. Then I got another notice in the mail from them, a few days later. Thanks, yep, I heard you the first time.
THEN, I got an automated PHONE CALL from them. OKAY. I GOT IT.
So I put out my trash last Wednesday. Good grief, people. What is the big deal?
And then, a couple days ago, I got yet another automated phone call. Hello!? The change has already occurred, people. I passed the test. You can stop treating me like an imbecile.
So guess who forgot to put out the trash this morning? And guess who heard the trash truck coming and was smitten with the awful realization that the trash was not out at the curb? And guess who punched the garage door opener, dashed outside, hauled the trashcan up the driveway, at the same time yelling pleadingly at the driver who was zipping past the driveway...and got him to back up and take the trash... all within the space of about fifteen seconds. Ha. Yes. That would be me. I love to provide entertainment for the neighborhood. Oh man. I wonder if the trash man has some sort of list in the truck on which he checked off my name for further remedial calls and cards in the mail.
After all that resentment over being treated like a four year old with the endless reminders...and I go and forget.
Oh the great, momentous dramas of my life.