Every Thursday morning I wake up with a jolt from the sound of giant mechanical arms smashing our neighbor's trash can to the ground. The truck's engine accelerates and I know it must be in front of our house. By then I have mustered up enough energy to whisper quickly, actually too abruptly for 6 am, "Did you put our cans out?!!" You murmur, "mm-hmmm" and roll over for those last moments of sweet sleep. And with relief I wonder, "With all the overwhelming details on his mind, how did he remember that?"
Thanks you for rolling the big guys out to the curb every Wednesday night, JK.
Soon, there will be a big break from all of this hard work that seems like it will never end. 21 days, in fact.
I appreciate you.
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