Oh the Shame!

Well, I’m mortified but let me start at the beginning.

I live on a private road and waste management refuses to drive off the county road so we have to take our garbage down to the end of the road. Out of laziness we just leave the can they assigned to us at the corner. All of our neighbors quickly followed. We’re trend setters that way.

Anyway, lugging stuff down there is definitely a pain. When my husband, The Tizz, is out-of-town I rarely take the garbage down to the can. It’s kind of his thing. You know, so he feels all needed and warm inside. Plus he has a truck so he can throw it in the bed and I don’t have to put it in my car to leak and stink the place up. He’s good to me like that.

I’ve accumulated 3 full garbage bags and figured it was about time I took everything to the end of the road since they weren’t looking too good next to my fence. With four dogs and two goats I’m already riding a thin line of being “that house” on the block. (I’m sorry but if your dogs are bred to bark and chase and you take them out and reward them when they bark and chase things then there is nothing to break them of that habit at home. It far too confusing for them.)

You know, the house with no shame and broken down cars in the yard and random appliances on the front porch. Yeah, "that house".

I’ve always used the garbage can with the giant 85 on the side (or what I think looks like an 85) because that’s the last two digits of our address. When I got down there it was full to the brim with stuff…on a Monday! Garbage doesn’t even get picked up until Friday. Needless to say, I was none too pleased.

I thought about it and stewed for a while and went back to my house and thought about it some more and stewed some more. I considered writing an angry letter and taping it to my garbage can. That would really show them. I finally decided I had just been walked all over too much lately and I wasn’t going to take it anymore. Nope, not this girl. This girl was standing up for herself finally.

This may have been a poor time to do so.

I took all of the garbage out and threw it next to another garbage can that had also been stuffed full (I assumed they were the culprits). I called my mom so she could be proud that I was finally sticking up for myself and griped about “the nerve of some people”. I hate to admit it but out of boredom last night I even pulled out my binoculars to see if the garbage was still sitting where I threw it and maniacally laughed about it.

Yes, this was the cat version of me staring out my back window, binos in hand. http://www.icanhasceezburger.com.

Cut to this evening. I was driving home and saw one of the garbage cans had been turned so the street numbers were facing the road. Hmm.. that’s interesting, that address looks suspiciously like mine, I thought. The first three numbers and the fifth were correct but the fourth which should have been the 8 was all smudged out.

Oh sweet Jesus.

I drove creepily slow up my road to check out other address (all of two houses before mine) and prayed that there was someone else with a similar address. Unfortunately my suspicions were confirmed. I am the only house on the road with that combination of numbers. I even googled my road to see if it would show everyones addresses since there are about five more past me and three that I don’t know the numbers of. Google failed me.

I was in disbelief. I called the Tizz to figure all this madness out.

“So where was our garbage can when you left?”

“Um…it was the one of the end.”

I’ve been using one in the middle.

“Ohhhh, hmmm. So how was it labelled?”

“With our address on the corner but the 8 was smudged out.”

NOOOOOO.

I have been using the wrong garbage can for TWO YEARS! Yes TWO YEARS. Granted I rarely take it out. I usually just pile stuff in the garbage can by the house until the Tizz returns but it was full this time and he’s gone for a few more weeks. I was trying to class the joint up without all the garbage bags strewn about. Still I take it out some times and I have been wrong EVERY time.

These people must hate me. I pray they have no idea who the garbage can thief has been.

I’ve devised a game plan in these moments of panic and shame. Here it is: I leave for work by 4:30 in the AM. Yuck. I’m just going to use the cover of darkness to right this wrong. It’s surefire. It has to be. It’s a simple fix but the shame will live on for much longer.

One things for sure. I will not be showing my face in this hood anytime soon!

I’d love to hear about something someone else had done to make them want to bury their head in the sand.

P.S. I would like to clarify that I try to take care of my house and do not actually have any appliances on the front porch or a broken down cars in the yard but this is often a joke between the Tizz and I and a real fear I have.

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