Getting Used to Garbage day

Woke up at six this morning with my little dog making little woofing noises. Like she way saying, I hear a noise and I'm not sure if I should alert you, but it is a concern to me.

I listened and heard a big truck. What would a big truck be doing in the neighborhood this early?

Garbage!!!

I tore off through the house and out the door, still in my PJ's and my hair frizzed and standing out from my head. I must of looked like the wild woman of Borneo. I rolled out the garbage cans and set them along the curb in front of our house.

The garbageman slowed and watched my antics for a moment then turned the corner and went on.

Shoot! I must be too late. This is the sixth garbage day since we moved into the new house and we're still getting use the routines of the neighborhood, including garbage day pick-up.

Sighing, I went inside to make a cup of tea and wash dishes.

A couple of minutes later I heard the truck again, sounding like it was right out front.

Yes. *fist pump*

He must have been doing one side then came back to do the other.