Garbage, garbage every where,
Nor any bite to eat.
Garbage, garbage every where,
Stinks just like my feet.
You know, a garbage can is somewhat like the albatross. It is there, constantly bothering me. A weight around my neck, as it were. Almost a curse. Oh, hell, it is a curse.
Think about it. Fill it. Take it to the street. Take it back from the street. And start all over again.
A few years back, my town picked up the garbage from right where the can was located.
Then, they started recycle, which meant that, every week, I had to tote a little container down to the street and back.
Then, and I don’t remember if it was a dozen years ago or two decades, the town gave us (that is, sort of “gave,” they do tax us a little) large garbage cans and slightly smaller recycle cans. Great, except I have to now drag both of them down to the street. And, of course, drag them back.
Weekly
Garbage is picked up every week, and recycle is picked up every-other week. Given that, I , quite intelligently I might add, just toted the stuff down every-other week. I did that for years (seemed longer).
A couple of years back, I started thinking about the garbage situation. I really didn’t generate that much stuff to put out every-other week. So, clever as I am, I started putting the stuff out one week out of four. Then I got smarter and smarter. (How do I do it?) The day after this past Christmas, I put the stuff out, as usual. Then, in mid-January, the bins weren’t even half-full. Ha! Why put the stuff out? What I am telling you is that now I am on an eight-week cycle. Presently, I am working on a method to get to a ten-week cycle.
What all I have told you means is, if never in your entire life did you ever kill an albatross, you still have the damned garbage to contend with.
