Alright so today was garbage day. Which means we take our great big green garbage thing (oh my god, am I going brain dead? -- it took me forever to think of the word "can"!) and roll it to the end of the driveway, and then when we get home in the afternoon it has been emptied and then left pretty much in the middle of the street. This is just what happens. Every single Wednesday.
Now, for those of you who haven't been to my house - some background.
1.) When Jeff Foxworthy said "If when giving directions to your house, you have to say 'turn off the paved road', you might be a redneck" - he was talking about my house. I live in a 'horseshoe' type neighborhood, on a semi-compacted gravel road with lots of potholes and no real set width. It's no street. More like a trail.
2.) My house is the first one on my road, which means my six or so neighbors who share that part of the road with us always have to drive by my house. My neighbors across the street have planted great big wavy green plants that started out pretty and are now not much more than a nuisance because they're growing into the road and forcing most people to drive pretty much through our grass to get down the road. I hate those plants.
3.) So... on trash day - the garbagemen just drop our trash can in the middle of the road and I love it. It makes people slow down and drive around it and it inconveniences everyone, including myself, and I love it and hope they keep doing it. This is because I'm a mean person but also because people tend to drive like 40 mph down this gravel road. And little kids play on this road all the time, and my house is on a bend where, because of the obnoxious green road blockers (plants), you can't see what is coming at you. Not even great big speeding white trucks. And apparently, being the only person on the road that does not have kids qualifies me to also be the only person on the road who cares about their safety. So on trash day I like to see all the drivers on my road have to slow down and purposefully drive around my annoying trash can. I wish every day was garbage day.
So today, Adam and I come home and normally we would have to drive around the trash can and take a very sharp turn to then get into our driveway and have a nice laugh about how annoying we must be to all our neighbors. Instead, we pulled up and our trashcan had been drug all the way down the driveway (no small feat considering it's tiny pebbles, not asphalt, and semi-long) and under the carport. Which actually felt a little like an invasion of privacy, as hermit-like as that might seem. This is mostly because the carport is underneath the house, so it feels like they were in my house. Super weird, I know.
So the burning question is - WHO MOVED MY TRASH CAN?
I wish this was some sort of philosophical question with a greater meaning, like Who Moved My Cheese. I suppose I could try to make it one - where I equate my trash can to my retirement account; empty and in a place it doesn't belong.
But really, I just wish I knew who moved my trash can. Because I think it's weird and I do not believe it was simply a nice gesture because WHY? Adam and I don't go around doing nice gestures. If someone needed a wider berth for their gigantic white truck, why didn't they just move the can away from the road? (sidenote: in case you haven't been to Texas, 90% of the vehicles on the road are huge white trucks.)
Ah, the trials and tribulations of my life. What ever will happen next? Perhaps some mailbox fraud or a smashed pumpkin in my driveway. Aren't you glad you read this post?
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