One of my favorite ways to be awakened on an icy early winter Friday morning is by the sounds of the giant foul smelling trash trucks rumbling up your street at 6:00 AM. This lovely sensation is only heightened by the sudden barren realization that you forgot to place your trash and recyclables by the curb the previous evening before going out with your friends to share many bottles of wine over dinner. It's fun to fling yourself out of a warm cozy bed with a fuzzy, wine colored, brain in the pre-dawn dark desperately grabbing at whatever warm things happen to be within hands reach as you try to side step the screeching cats in order to make your way out into the frostbitten morning so as to drag a behemouth of a garbage scented trash can to the curb.
At least I now get to drive with my friend Jerry to the beach so as to be able to perform in my friend's Improv Murder Mystery Troupe tonight. Right now, I'm dreading it, but the money is good. Perhaps I just need to re-adjust my attitude about the whole thing.
Ciao for now,
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