This morning I woke with a wet dog nose in my face.
I look at the clock. Almost 6 am.
He wants out. Fine. I may as well get up, gotta pee anyway.
I let him out the back door which leads to a small deck. I notice the deck is blocked at the steps.
Oh yeah, I had the guinea pigs out in the pen yesterday, which is why the dog wasn’t allowed out into the yard then.
I unblock the steps so he can get down and turn to see what he’s doing behind me.
Coffee. I need coffee. Because clearly I’m not going back to bed now.
I head over to the kitchen to turn on the kettle. I open the coffee canister and it’s empty.
Because of course it’s empty.
The freezer drawer makes a noise that attracts the dog, so he’s standing there as I dig around to find a new bag of coffee.
He wants his bone. He has a hollow one which I stuff every night without fail and fill it with wet dog food mixed with treats or kibble. Wrapped in wax paper and frozen solid overnight gives him something to do in the early morning hours when I’m up and no one else is. I get to have coffee and type or read, while he gnaws on his bone.
As I open the garbage drawer under the kitchen sink to dispose the wax paper I see the compost container is full.
Sigh sigh sigh
It is a well known fact that no one in the family except me knows how to empty it, and replace it with a fresh bag. That, and how to change the toilet paper.
I take the full bag out (it’s summer, there’s occasionally flies, I don’t want maggots in my garbage receptacles) and walk to the side door.
Wait. It’s Wednesday. The bins should be at the curb, for collection today.
I open the front door and notice the curb is empty.
Because of course it’s empty. No bins. Another thing no one remembers to do around here ever single Tuesday night is to put the bins out. Black bin and green bin one week, blue bin and green bin the next.
Not rocket science exactly, but habitual. Been like this for years.
Aren’t we humans supposed to be creatures of habit?
So I put the bag down someplace where the dog can’t get at it, go into the bedroom muttering under my breath. I need to put some clothes on.
Last night both my son and my husband were out till after 9 pm, at an umping job and then a trip to the mall. By the time they got home my daughter and I were watching Outdaughtered (a reality show about a family in Texas that has Quintuplets plus an older girl…fun!) and of course it didn’t occur to me either to double check that the bins were moved out. I had been busy with the guinea pig cage in the evening, cleaning it out and all that, which theoretically should have alerted me, too, to bring the full bin to the curb.
I was distracted and the cars were blocking the driveway that night. The kitchen was a mess, the girl plugged in and not doing her chores, and the dog underfoot. I was busy, she wasn’t, and that irked me then.
I forgot to move the bins.
I also had forgotten until that TV show came on that it was Tuesday.
So this is partly my fault. But less so than theirs, since they should have seen all the neighborhood bins lined up on the way home.
But that’s just me. I see stuff like that, they don’t. Must be a male gene thing.
So I move the bins, and the yard waste, to the curb, dressed in yoga pants and a tshirt and no bra, and went back inside. Kettle was boiled, dog was quiet.
I make coffee.
It’s days like this when I think a tone is set that makes the rest of the day feel like the morning was a preamble. You know what I mean?
It takes effort and mindfulness to not let this stuff get to you, do what you can, and focus on something different, more positive, less irritating.
I mean, typing this out helps me to work through my irksomeness, and in a way I was able to let go of some of it.
So now that it’s going on 7 am, I am sitting here with a fresh(er) start.
I have coffee.
The dog stopped puking and is quietly watching the world go by near the front screen door which I have locked.
The rest of the fam is still asleep. I hope he doesn’t bark each time he sees another dog go by…
I hope your morning was better than mine. Cheers!