I'm the Trash Man

I would say one of the most glaring contrast in my nature from youth until now as a middle aged man is that whereas--in my days of yore youth--I resisted taking out the trash, now I embrace it as a cathartic activity; giving me a sense of completion and closure, which is pretty much opposite how my life goes most of the time.

Usually, I kind of wait to see what happens in my day-to-day, because often I don't know what is coming, especially true in my job as a school counselor. Enforced flexibility...if you don't bend, you break. Yes it is interesting and exciting always, and just a bit stressful.

So, when I see the trash can brimming, I hardly dawdle in pulling the red cord of the refuse white bag and dispatch the trash into the outer darkness. My own Gehenna. Take care of business, take it out, don't delay. Act now. It gives me profound satisfaction.

As a kid, this chore caused me to delay until the decay and the smell and heaping overflow compelled action. It was one of my chores. Don't know why I was assigned the most odious and noxious duty on the chore roster. Lina says it is one of the characteristics she digs about me...that I am pronto on trash removal.

Keep short accounts and trash bags. Confess your sins that you may be healed (James)

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