A real New Yorker likes the sound of a garbage truck in the morning.– R.L. Stine
It’s Monday & I haven’t had my coffee.
Unfortunately, that’s not a sound I’ve been hearing lately. Rather, I haven’t been hearing the recycling truck. They’re two different things in my town.
Four weeks, to be exact. Four weeks and my bin is overflowing. Over the years my neighbor’s nicked a bin and rains have floated a few around so now he has three bins. Always full; always emptied. Mine are hit or miss, but after four weeks it’s FULL.
I’ve complained to the city to no avail as yet. This morning, I moved my bin a few feet to the left, into my driveway so the collectors could “see” it – and correct the excuse the city gave me. I’m the colorblind one here, but even I can see the overflowing trash. Come on.
If it’s not collected today, I’d really like to dump the stuff at the utilities office, but a guy did that a few years ago and got in trouble for vandalism. I’ll figure something out, though.
Running In My Head 
Sounds familiar – like hte day we didn’t have much garbage so just put out a couple of the small kitchen bags neatly tied and a very small bundle of leafy bush branches also neatly tied and trimmed much shorter than the required 4 foot length…and they took one sack. What? Saw one and not the others? There is no one sack rule – ever. So now we remember to dump all the little ones into a giant black garbage bag ( stretched and at risk for breaking). That’s certainly better.
Mondays
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