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Tuesday, August 10, 2010

The time some BASTARD stole our dumpster

I am looking at my journal. You know the handwritten account of my so called life. Well, there are a few things about that journal that depress the hell out of me. First, the title page bears the date 2009 which , whew has been LONG GONE for a while now. For those of you who don't know this about me, I am a journalist and up until about a year and a half ago I would journal nightly. I started doing it when I was about 19 or 20. So, I have like 18 volumes of journals. Highly entertaining stuff. Tonight I went in to my journal to make an entry only to find myself (Second depressing thing) sorting thru to do lists and my drafts of "life purpose" statements for my therapist. WHAT!?!?!? That is BORING crap. Kara B. would never allow her journal to become a NOTEBOOK.

My solution to that, type a blog entry. What will it be about? Oh, this is a fun one. The time I went to North Sioux City, SD for Christmas and some BASTARD stole my dumpster. So, long story short I'm about 26 weeks pregnant, in the middle of a hellacious colitis flare and flying home to SD for Christmas cuz Andy is in Iraq. Before I leave for Denver it's GARBAGE DAY the next day. I've got some stuff in there that's really raunch and if I don't set it out to be picked up my garage will surely overpower my poor little pregnant nauseous nose and there is no one but me to clean up those types of messes. Point taken. Get there. Love my Mom and Ron, but WORST FRIGGING CHRISTMAS HANDS DOWN. All the while wishing I was at home. Bed sucks and I miss my sleep number. Shitting my brains out with the colitis and just having a generally bad time with Ron's constant criticism. His observations and comments like, "You act like you're the only pregnant person that ever lived", just not really very helpful and encouraging. Ahhhhh, so I'm home again, home again jiggity jig.

I get home from my 7 or 8 day travels and find that my dumpster is no longer outside of my house. A few days pass and I'm finding that I have trash to put never shows up. Okay and now it's the night before trash collection and the sweet little boy across the quad comes over to change the cat litter (I'm not supposed to b/c of the baby growing inside me) and so I have no where for him to dump it. I politely ask him to just take it on home with him and put it in his dumpster. Hmmmmm..... now that's not going to work forever. I mean we're going to be living here for at least another 6-8 months and I can't always be putting out my trash in the neighbor's cans. So, I call the trash service to ask if they had picked it up. NOPE. And a replacement......90 BUCKS!!!! Holy crap. Okay, that is not happening.

Everyday on my way home from work I'm checking out trash bins to see if one is ours. We had two distinct features. A piece of 550 cord on the back of the hinge and the mailbox numbers 4380 on both the front and side( or any residue in the spot they might have been removed). And now you're wishing I'd just move the story along already. I will. I looked DAILY for that friggin' can and even considered stealing the one outside the mailboxes area. Who'd really have known? Until one day about 2 months later (Yes, I was secretly sneaking out the night before collection and putting my trash in other people's dumpster for nearly 8 weeks. I just flat out refused to accept that it was gone. I was not paying $90 for a friggin' dumpster. )I was driving home when I see it. OUR FRIGGIN' Dumpster!! It'd just sitting outside the neighbors house with trash in it, just 3 houses down and across the way. What in the hell??!!?!!? The 550 cord and 4380 still intact. AMAZING. So, did they just think that maybe it was theirs?? AND HOW REALLY?? I simply got out of my car, wheeled it back in to my garage with the trash in it and from that point on I would meet the garbage guys on Thursday AM at the garage door to hand them my trash and then safely return my dumpster into the garage and close the door. I can't believe those f'ing people. Jerks! :)

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