I walked outside to throw something away and found a big gray bin parked in my driveway.
Okaaay. Who goes around parking big gray bins in people's driveways?
Luckily, a note accompanied the foreign bin. A note from the city recycling company. Wait, what? The unknown bin is a recycle bin? Joy races through my extremities and exits through uptilted lips. This is truly a landmark day.
I clutch the letter to my bosom for a heart-stopping moment. Then, lifting the gray hulk, I wheel it to its new place next to its less glorified cousin, the garbage bin. Before I'm even back in the house I'm texting my husband.
"Honey! Guess what? We got our recycle bin today! Huzzah!"
While I wait for him to respond to this glorious news, I begin reading the pickup schedule attached to the Welcome! letter. It seems we have two weeks to try and fill the gray monster, pickups coming every other Tuesday. My smile seems a permanent new fixture.
Bing. Bing. My husband texts back.
"You're that excited about a recycle bin? You are such a hippie."
Sigh.
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