Seems like this entire year my trash day has been on the worst day of the week: Thursdays.
On this particular Thursday we are having an unseemly amount of big white wet flaky stuff pouring from the sky. It's like someone dripping melted vanilla ice cream on your head when you go outside. Only not as tasty.
And the kids don't seem to have any school. At least there are a bunch of teenagers at the house across the street.
They giggled at me as I made my way to the curb to bring in my recycling bin and trash bin and put my Californication DVD in the mailbox.
They could have been giggling because I had my pants tucked into my cowboy boots and was wearing my Rastafarian hat to protect my flowing flocks from the dripping snow. Maybe.