It’s almost 100 degrees outside, if you didn’t know.

Imagine how gross and smelly most dumpsters are this time of year. Well, the one at my apartment is horrible. I spray it often with pro-grade insecticide. I also keep the trash picked up. For some reason, the amount of trash has escalated in recent weeks. Some residents throw their trash in there without it being bagged. Including the home health nurse who takes care of an elderly man below. She throws dirty adult diapers directly inside. This is important for reasons I’ll clarify.

Today, I worked out in the hot sun until I was drenched in sweat. I wore a pair of black shorts, ones missing a top button. I accumulated so many screws and washers in the pockets that the shorts constantly began to succumb to gravity and work down across my hips. I’m not a plumber, so I can’t very well walk around like that. Plus, the catcalls from all the local women are a distraction.

I walked over to the dumpster and pulled out handfuls of screws, tossing them blindly into the open stinky dumpster. I eyed the dirty diapers with particular glee. The hot sun did them no favors.

I walked back to my apartment and realized I had locked the door.

A growing horror overtook me.

I knew with growing dread. That. I. Had. Tossed. The. Car. Key. And. Apartment. Key. Inside. The. DUMPSTER.

Before thinking too long or pondering the financial implications of replacing my car key, I ran over to the dumpster, hooked my foot in the grab-rail, and hoisted myself up and into the dumpster. I did my best to avoid the diapers. I climbed on top and leaned headfirst inside, my hands clawing at the things I’d just tossed inside. About a foot away from the bottom, I spied my car key. Luckily, I painted it spa blue, so I saw it more easily. The smell of farts and worse filled my nostrils. I knew I couldn’t pass out inside the dumpster, though given its temperature, it was likely. I leaned over as far as I could, like a broken half of a seesaw, and grabbed the key, then flung myself backward to avoid needing to touch any deliciousness surrounding me.

If you ask me if I washed my hands?

I think I drank bleach in my attempt to kill every virus and bacteria that might have attacked me.

Love, X

Life can be so hard so if you see this post and get irritated at me, take a moment and remember: I don’t know about you, but a great deal of my problems are a result of me taking myself seriously. And from worrying about appearances.

Just being a good neighbor! Since the original neighbor and his new roommate galavant around with no shirts on, they might as well up their game. I, of course, am here to help. Anyone who needs a really poorly made sign for this kind of purpose can reach out to me and I will hook you up. These neighbors did not ask for my help. I just see a need and compassionately reach out to offer my assistance. Ha! Please indemnify me from the consequences though. I have enough tomfoolery and shenanigans to fill my plate.

X
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