I started out here to write a post about my garbage. You see, after having reclaimed my garbage can (but not my recycling bins) and bought a new one, I walked out this afternoon to discover that the waste management folks hadn't TAKEN my garbage because my new garbage can is apparently too big. So it's sitting out by the curb and I couldn't drag it back DOWN the hill behind my house if I wanted to, and I'm pretty pissy about it.
But as I set out to write about this I remembered something a friend of mine said last week. I mentioned that my house was a wreck and she said, "I know you take your garbage and your recycling out".
Hm.
Yeah.
The reason she knew that was that I have not one but two posts about taking out my garbage and my recycling on this blog. This is three, I guess--and it's only my 35th post on this blog.
Can it really be that nearly 10% of my life is about my garbage and recycling?
I want to laugh and say of course not and wonder why this particular non-topic keeps popping up on my blog, but I suspect quite the opposite. I suspect that it's just an apt representation of the way the details that should be insignificant in life rise up and join together to take up so much time that the really important things get overlooked.
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