I'm the opposite of a hoarder. I love to make space, clear the deck, throw things away, clean up and clean out. My idea of a holiday is Wednesday--Garbage Day. Presidents' (Days) are seldom as beneficial to us individually as getting rid of our garbage.
Perhaps it all started when I was a little kid. Out in the country nobody picked up your trash. You burned it, buried it, or hauled it to the dump. The most amazing feeling grew to a fervor as we drove to the county facility a couple times a year--clean, free, expansive, exhilarating, joyous. The feelings are easily recalled and replayed as I make way for the fresh, the new, the clean, the rearranged.
Our town is going through major evolutionary shifts related to waste collection. It is arguable for both sides whether we are progressing or regressing as a city or as a species on this topic. Nevertheless, our household has garbage pickup just once a month. If we miss that day, we are nested in our own trash for another four weeks.
I'm paying attention to the calendar: today is the day. The exciting Things I get to do today are to hustle around the house emptying rubbish into the reused dry cleaner's bag, a prophylactic for the basket under the kitchen sink, put out all recyclables, and line up the yard debris can with the other two containers at the curb. Can you top that? Go ahead. Make my day.