Trash Day Paranoia

Friday is the normal trash pickup day here in old Woodbridge in Detroit. Yet on weeks where there's been a Monday holiday it's pushed back to Saturday. The reason, I presume, is so that the companies (Detroit trash pickup is contracted out) don't have to give holiday pay to their workers. I don't know if I'd like that as an employee. Sure, you get a three day weekend like many others. Yet it's followed by a one day weekend; you work ten days out of eleven. But like Thomas Sowell says, there are no solutions. Only tradeoffs.

So anyway, we typically put our trash out Thursday after 6 because the trucks may come anytime after 7 AM Friday, and they have been early. Remember this is a contractor, not a city worker as I've allowed. Time means something to them. Yet I didn't put ours out yesterday because pickup shouldn't be until Saturday.

In taking my walk around the neighborhood early this morning I noticed a fellow had his trash and recycling cans out. He must have missed the memo.

Pretty soon thereafter I saw to the side of the road more receptacles, along with those large brown paper bags of lawn refuse. You-all are too early, I told myself very proudly.

Then I realized that more than half the residences had their stuff by the curb (I should spell it kerb so I can sound English - look it up) and paranoia grew within me. Did I miss the memo?

Upon arrival back at home I hastily gathered the trash and set out the eight bags of lawn debris I had accumulated during the week. The trash collectors had better come today.

What did I miss?

I woke up this morning thinking it was Friday. Honest. I even noticed that a Facebook friend woke up with the same feeling.

This feeling persisted even as I took my morning walk. You know how days 'feel' a certain way, right? I spent the whole walk feeling as though it were Friday. It reached the point where I was actually reassuring myself, Marty, it's Thursday. It. Is. Thursday. I was reminding myself of what I did at work yesterday, what I ate at meals and who I spoke to on the phone. Yes, yes, it's quite certainly Thursday, I kept repeating internally.

Then I rounded a corner to be greeted by two entire rows of trash cans and recycling bins lined along Commonwealth Street. The screwy thing about that is that Friday is our trash day. And this wasn't an isolated can or two but whole rows. Needless to say I immediately questioned my own sanity all over again. I even pulled out my cell phone for reassurance. The screen was blank, the battery dead.

Arriving at my shop, which does not have a clock or a calendar because hey, we have cell phones for those sorts of things these days, I was still confused. But getting back home for a few minutes has assured me that yes, this is Thursday.

Friday, please stop messing with me, okay?