The Story Of Today ~ Part 1.
JUST KIDDING!!
There could never be a part 2 because I would have packed my bags and flown to Canada in protest, spite, and mild appreciation of their advertised love of all things Maple.
But also:
Yes.
So today marked the first day that I have ever had the utmost displeasure (107/10 would not verbally recount) of smelling something so foul, so putrid, so vomit-inducing that I was momentarily struck down by a fit of syncope.
For those who don't know, syncope is a cool new word that means faint or fainting. I was struck a-faint.
As it was, I have not yet been able to tell this tale out-loud, for fear of inhaling the scent again upon speaking the very words of the thing I dare not mention!
It's a time.
SO, I woke up positively alurching into action- basically one minute I was asleep and the next I was upright and reaching for the kettle.
I turned on the kettle and remembered that the bins had to be put out today, actually, at this very minute, christ! And bae had gone!
I leapt to action, immediately spinning away from the kitchen appliances in all their crumbly and glowy-light glory, and power-walked out to the front of the house, slipped on shoes, flung open the door, and was greeted by a pleasant sunny morning with only a hint of cool air from the night before.
Now, my car is always in the way of the bin location. It is a sad state of affairs, but one that must continue until the day I retire from this place, or just retire in general and have some nice attractive young chap in nothing but low hanging jeans pull the bin to it's spot for me while I sip on champagne and eat cocktail sausages from my reclining deck chair that resides right outside the front window.
Watching, but also critiquing, in the nicest way possible.
I managed to haul the regular bin to the spot, went back for the green bin, that we all know- even if I have never made it public- has issues.
The first issue was that it didn't have a lid. So we got one. Then a gigantic spider decided to LIVE ON IT. Anyway, I tried to push it but remembered that, yes, this bin was actually full to the brim.
TO THE BRIM PEOPLE.
With what I assumed was dry, dead, grass and some of my plants that had grown beautifully until one day I realised in a spasm of horror that they all looked like their leaves were legs and I threw them in the bin, alive, to be rid of this abomination.
I thought, hey! I'm an ambitious young go-getter! Today will be the day I finally tip half of the contents out, out the bin out, then reload the stuff in preparation for next bin day, and be an absolute winner.
So I tried to push it over, but it would not push. Mark my words, this bin was trouble. I tried again, and again, and huffing and heaving and ACUTELY aware that I still had not had my morning coffee yet, I pushed the bin over, only to find...
WATER.
WATER AND THE RANKEST REEK THAT EVER WAFTED THROUGH THE AIR INTO UNSUSPECTING HUMAN NOSES.
UTTER STENCH.
The bin was filled to the top with grass and plants, and, SOMEHOW, water had gotten in and everything was a greenish, brownish, sludge that only ever deserves to live in the deep underground instead of innocent human rubbish bins.
We're not sure if the friendly gutter cleaner who mowed our damp grass last week had dumped the damp grass into the bin, or if the rain has somehow gotten inside due to a small leak, but whatever the reason, there was a shit tonne of water inside and it had been there long enough to ferment.
I ran back inside to get the outside broom, pulled on a coat, ran back out and started trying to scrape the sludge out with the end of the broom. This meant my face was almost in direct contact with the sludge. I scraped four times. Then I stood up, experienced the pre-syncope feelings of a light almost cold body, partial vision-loss, sway, and a mild draining of conscious. I staggered inside, fell in the hallway, and turned onto my back and thought 'did I almost faint from the smell?'
From smell?
and:
Can this be used a weapon??
This experience had awoken something in me. As I lay there festering in my growing hatred for this wet grass, I thought of marketing strategies and the price and safety requirements of glass bottles. I heard the bin truck pull up. I thought vaguely about getting up to move my car, but did not move for fear of fainting on top of the sludge.
The feeling slowly dissolved into a hunger for breakfast. So I called my mother, staggered up and made my way slowly to the kitchen where I turned the kettle on again. Sat down. Took a sip of coffee and in that INSTANT, I realised with great clarity.. this coffee tasted like the stench of wet sludge.
o o
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