Ever been sitting at a stoplight when the guy sitting next to you began to inch forward and you pressed harder on the break because you thought you were going backwards?
Something like that happened to us the other day.
Background: we do not pay to have our trash hauled. Once a month, we take our garbage bags, along with our recycling, to the recycle center about an hour away from here. (There is a large dumpster next to the recycle area.) However, everyone else who lives on this mountain pays the garbage man to pick up their trash.
Trash pickup day is Friday.
Or, it used to be.
On Saturday, I was working in the kitchen when I heard the sound of a large truck go by (it’s really not that large, it just sounds large). I looked out and thought I saw a flash of white. A neighbor’s pickup? I wondered. Because it was Saturday, and trash day was Friday. But, come to think of it, I couldn’t remember hearing the trash truck go by the day before. And I almost always do.
A few minutes later, I heard the same sound coming back down the mountain. I looked out the window closely this time.
It was the garbage man.
“Uh, Jerry, it is Saturday today, right?”
“I thought so.”
“The garbage man just went by.”
I’m sure he was thinking the same thing I was: are we a day off??!
It was a Twilight Zone moment. An oh-my-gosh-are-my-brakes-busted moment.
A definite disadvantage to not having a job (or not sending your kid to school or otherwise having to follow other people’s schedules): you might forget what day it is.
P.S. – Apparently, the garbage man changed his schedule. WHEW!