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With the kids on the school bus and cats fed by 8:15a.m., this cloudy, cold winter morning was underway. Announcing my plan for the day to my office-bound husband, I waved to him as he drove off. I proceeded to check my email and edit an article as I said I would, when the rumble of the garbage truck bellowed from a not-so-distant street in the neighborhood. It's bulk trash day. I am trying to make life in a two bedroom 'seasoned' started house bearable for a family of four (plus cats), so I love bulk trash day. Knowing we're in for a snowstorm tonight, and being so tight on space, I saw an opportunity to open up some playroom real estate. My eyes bulged with the idea of getting that unsightly dresser from the porch out to the curb. I had decided to go for it and give a large donation to the curb from the playroom, making a weekend (and beyond) of 'cabin fever' more bearable.
I jumped up from my desk and threw open the playroom door, which also happens to be our enclosed front porch. I decided I was going to 'unearth' the weathered, peeling, stained, hunk of junk oversized bureau that has long been on my list of 'things to go'. Quickly, I began to clear a path to the far end of the cluttered room. Pens, markers, game pieces, scrap paper, gloves, boots, you name it, it was everywhere. Giving up on the 'sort as you go' method, I simply piled everything in the way of the bureau on the other side of the room. I kept three of the six drawers from the splintering bureau to sort later, my main mission of the moment was to get the furniture to the curb before the garbage truck pulled up. Aside from the pile of jackets, a toy chest, car seats, school supplies and dominoes, the bureau was blocked in by a coffee table, stacked with a stereo speaker and an old Sony computer monitor, which I wouldn't dare mess with. My husband wants to 'hold on to them', (sigh). This is why it is best that I be alone on bulk trash day.
The rumble of the truck grew louder. I hadn't much time. I thought for a split second of the possibility that I would not make it to the curb in time. I even slowed down and said out loud, "nah, I'll never make it", but then remembered that as long as there is still a chance, it is possible. I pictured two scenarios; creating more space, and living in this overwhelming clutter one more day, so I cranked it up to 'double time' to side with progress. Within ten seconds, give or take, I had emptied the dresser and checked it over. Ignoring the mess this decision has caused, I managed to start rolling the dresser out of its corner. I had to climb onto the dresser to get to the door, once I did; there was no going back. I took a moment for parting words, almost thinking twice about everything. Seeing the warped, moldy back and cobweb-covered bottom made me feel good about my decision and so I hauled it to the curb.
I wondered if my neighbors were having a good time watching me on my mission. I had to single-handedly move this beastly piece of furniture out my door and down five steps to the sidewalk, where I could easily roll it to the curb. I did it! I got it out before the truck arrived, with time to spare. I had made a good decision. I returned to my porch and watched from the window. The truck had just arrived.
Bulk trash in my town is every Friday. It's a good deal, I know. After 9 years as a resident in this neighborhood, I have developed a thirty second repoire with the garbage crew, who have been on the job almost as long as we have lived here. One of the crew in particular jokes with me about a few memorable bulk trash days from over the years. Oh, yes, he has seen me in action before. I have raced to the curb many-a-times. Seeing me peer from the window, he gestured with approval of my curbside donation. I opened the door; "you need help getting it into the truck?” I joked. It took two guys to get it into the truck, where it cracked into pieces. I saluted and waived it off.
Returning to my front room, I realized the amount of sorting; vacuuming and purging that will need to be done. Taking a deep breath, I walked past the clutter and returned to my desk. Right before the kids came home from school, I made a clearing in the playroom, enough for them to safely explore, as I knew they would.
When my husband got home, I admit, I felt l was about to live an episode of 'I Love Lucy', knowing I had some explaining to do. To my surprise, he did not fly off the handle like Ricky Ricardo, but he did think I was being impulsive. I can live with that. |
