When the stove was delivered and installed December first 2010, it came in this giant cardboard box, into which I would throw my empty beer cans until it was full. Today I decided I would finally pack them all up in garbage bags and recycle them. And wouldn't you know it I came across an unopened one. Panic. Totally unexpected. I had started a trash fire earlier because I'm trying to organize my lumber, and you would have thought just by watching that I was carrying a dead rat to the pile to burn.
It never ends, and it's never fair, and it's never easier.
And to make matters worse, a couple Jehovah's witnesses stopped by to help me read the bible smarter. I didn't welcome their visit, nor did I condescend to them. Here's the thing. I live at the end of a half mile easement that isn't exactly what you would see as inviting. Gotta admire their faith, at the very least. And I can't help but think that the two incidents are somehow related.
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2 comments:
Hell ya their related -- those Jehovah folk only go door to door to see if they can scrounge up a drink. Did you not know that? DON'T BE A WITNESS, BABE, DON"T BE A WITNESS!
The can was cool, I knew what it would smell like and taste like. I'm just bummed it still controls me and that it always will. But today is gonna be a great day, but only if I can get hold of everybody's favorite band, The Managed Distractions.
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