It’s Monday, and you know what the means? It’s garbage pickup day. Why does the garbage man have to come so early? 6:00 AM is usually when the truck comes through the neighborhood, and as always, the process makes a racket loud enough to wake everyone that’s asleep. Why not come at 8:00 AM, like the street-cleaning crew does?
Good thing 6:00 AM is my wakeup time anyways. Not that I purposely synced it to the coming of the garbage truck, mind you. Going to sleep and rising early has been staple habit since the start of the coronavirus almost a year ago. The morning hours of solitude and calm - before anyone else wakes up - are super precious to me. Usually I start the day with typing a few hundred words on this blog.
Today is the Presidents Day holiday, which I almost forgot about. I absolutely do not have the day off today, so it’s not really something I’d pay attention to. While most of my friends are still sleeping soundly, awaiting a peaceful off day from the grind, I’m at the beginning of yet another work week. It should be a relatively quiet day though, because inevitably a bunch of students will think the university has Presidents Day off, so they don’t show up to class.
This was true even before this whole COVID online class madness.
On Sunday, I washed the M2 Competition for the first time since I bought it back in October. The seasonal rain have made it easy to just keep it as is, but it has reached a point of dirtiness that not even heavy rain can wash away. As I grow older, I am definitely less enthusiastic about the parts of car ownership that isn’t driving. I used to detail my cars every two weeks like clockwork. Nowadays I’m perfectly content to not wash it so long as it looks decent from five feet away.
It’s driving that I like, not car washing or changing the oil.
Red rose.