The hours I spend at the Sallows Military Museum changed for the Winter from Thursday afternoons to Wednesday afternoons. By and large, the change should make no difference. Till I get used to it, though, I get caught off guard on the trash day. Today I realized it was trash day, not Saturday, a little after 7:00 AM. “Trash day is Friday. Today is Friday,” I had to convince myself.
When I work at the museum on Thursdays, I prepare the trash the night before except for the last litter box offerings, which I gift wrap on the day they – thankfully! – go bye-bye.
Of course, when I work Wednesdays, the next day is one day too soon to prepare the trash, so, I think I should wait out Wednesday, then prepare the trash Thursday evening, my habit. Of course, Thursday feels like Friday because I worked Wednesdays at the museum, so Fridays feel like Saturdays, meaning there is no rush to prepare the trash for trash day, which, because Friday feels like Saturday so trash day is next week!. Just hang on tight here: It’s not confusing, just a matter of mind over perception. Yeah.
Just the idea of living one more week with litter box waste piling up should keep me on track. Andy and Dougy may weigh in at just 20 pounds 12 ounces together (9,41 kilograms), but they sure can pump out the poop and pee!
I rushed to collect and bag the trash this morning. I had to get it out on time or live a whole week more with litter box offerings piling higher and higher.
I faintly hear their truck compacting trash collected one lane over. I had lots of time to collect the and put it out, it seems, but missing trash day is not an option! The rush to get the trash out was worth it.