But I don't really enjoy trash or the trash dude. I enjoy the fact that it's gone. I enjoy knowing that I have a fresh empty can. It's sort of like when guys go to public restrooms- we always flush before we do our business. It's the fresh bowl mentality. And the reason it feels so good to see it go is that it means that I can fill it up again- the trash can AND the toilet.
So especially on the days I'm in the office, I see that trash can awaiting the day of judgment. And then he comes rumbling up the street. I can't see him coming, but the sound is unmistakable and what a glorious sound it is. However, there are times when it is painful...
There are the times- when I drop the kids off at school on trash day and I have an important phone call to make, or I have a noon deadline and I haven't taken the trash out yet. I tell myself that I'll get it done by say 11AM. After all, he comes at noon or later every time. But then time flies by. And I lose track. And the line of sight deficiency comes back to bite me. I hear him rumbling when he's two houses away and it's too late. I kick myself in anger. Back in our old house in Seal Beach, we lived on a street and the trash man would do the opposite side first. So I'd have a good 3 minutes to make up for my lapse. But on my current culdesac, I'm screwed. I'm defeated by my own procrastination. I am ashamed.
But when all cylinders are firing and the trash is out and taken and I'm home and there's more to fill, I'll practically run out to the curb, bring it back to our side yard and fill it up again. I don't care so much that it's empty, it's more the fact that I can put trash in its place and I can trim bushes and get more crap out of the house and into the can. Then that "fresh" trash has a few days to settle while it waits for the Man to arrive again. What a glorious feeling