Trash Talk

Although I become more and more depressed about our housing situation every day, there are perks.

One at our current in the trifecta of apartments is the trash situation. Right outside of our apartment is a box where you can put your trash and they pick it up EVERY day. I know this sounds minor, but for some reason we are a majorly trashy family. We accumulate soo much trash. And to be able to get rid of it so easily, so effortlessly, so often is bliss.

Tonight I went out to my new beloved box with bag o' garbage in hand. I opened the lid, dropped the bag and SCREAMED.

There sat/jumped/lurched some some fluffy, furry, moving, rodent thing--right in the box--the sealed, wooden, seemingly secure box! I'm quite certain it was a squirrel, although I'm not sure. I can only hope it wasn't a mouse or the three-letter R word. And only be thankful it didn't pounce on my face!

I was shaking for almost an hour after this experience. And this is on top of the freakin' snake I saw a couple of weeks ago! My heart isn't faring well.

One thing I know is that my husband is on trash duty from now on.