It’s 7:04am and I just got back to my bed after taking out my recycling. One blue plastic bag for plastics and one for paper, including 4 Dominoes pizza boxes.
None of his recycling or garbage was already there. On a usual Monday he would have brought his stuff to the curb by 5am when he left for work.
I find myself having to guess which option will not get me in trouble. I didn’t look to see if his trash was in the bins at the back of the driveway ready to go out. He doesn’t like (or allow) us to put anything out the night before.
I decided to ignore it. I’m responsible for my recycles and I followed the rules. If his stuff didn’t make it, that’s his problem. Doing nothing is frequently the safest way to not get yelled at.
I checked the website to make sure the pickup was still scheduled, despite this holiday being labour day. It’s almost a slap in the face of the sanitation unions to make them work on labour day, but I suppose their wage is doubled for the effort so nobody seems to complain.
I seem to remember holidays in Toronto didn’t have garbage pickup, but I could be wrong.
It just occured to me that in 6 or 7 minutes, the evidence of my recyclables will have been taken away and I could plead innocent. I can go back to sleep and not worry if he would have been angry I didn’t wake him or take his stuff out. It’s another anxiety worry come and gone.
I could also go feed the hens if I wanted to… But I won’t. In some really weird way I’d rather not admit, I kind of like seeing him fail at rules or schedules I get yelled at for failing. I say nothing, but it does make me smile a little when he doesn’t see.
In other, perhaps even more exciting news, I enjoyed a deep restorative sleep. I did not wake every hour. I think I only peed twice. I definitely slept from 230am to 7am without interruptions. The room was quite cool.
I almost missed the whole garbage story myself. It’s 730 now and instead of feeding anyone, I drank some water and I’m going back for more sleep. It was glorious.