Trashed

It’s really not that hard to do.  It takes about seven minutes, and there is a certain amount of satisfaction when the job is finished.  It is a scheduled job, no surprises.  If it doesn’t get accomplished, the consequences are…unpleasant.

Yet, I ignore and procrastinate this job every week.  Without fail.

I don’t want to take out the trash.

Subconsciously, I must remember that this has to happen before I go to bed.  Yet I finish my day, put my pajamas on, and wrap up in a soft blanket to either watch TV or read for awhile.  After the hour grows late, I startle myself by suddenly becoming aware that the garbage still has to go out.  And I end up wrapping up in a long winter coat and trudging out to the curb with the can in tow, grouchy about venturing out into the cold, dark night.

I could set myself up for success fairly easily in this situation.  I could fill the bag in the morning, or right after work, and set it in the garage.  Then I could carry it to the curb in the daylight–job done.  There are easy ways to solve this problem.

Yet, here I am once again, warm and cozy in my pajamas for the night.  In my warm home.  Weary from the day, and glad to be in from the cold, dark, (and this time) snowy night.

And I am grouchy, because I don’t want to take the garbage out.