Drizzle

We were up at the usual time so that we could be ready to collect Ellie and take her to school. There was a fine drizzle as we set off, and it didn't ease until well into my walk. Even then, it restarted before I completed my normal route.

By the time I arrived back home, Diane had already left for Pilates. I settled down for breakfast and a quick pass through social media. The rest of the morning was spent with domestic tasks, including planning for next week's menus and the shopping list for tomorrow.

By the end of the morning, the rain had stopped, and it was bright and sunny. The Orangery was lovely and warm, and we both sat out there with our Kindles. We collected Ellie after her football session (it had started drizzling again by then) and took her home, then returned home ourselves. Diane phoned Denise for a chat, and I prepared dinner.

The new regime for bin collections starts in the morning. We have been checking that we have all the right items in the correct bins. Goodness knows if we have got it right! It is fair to say that this new regime is not universally popular:

ANYONE ELSE HAD ENOUGH OF THESE ****** BINS OR IS IT JUST ME??? Because honestly, I’m at the point now where I’m questioning my entire existence over household waste. Years ago life was SIMPLE, you had one black bin, you put your **** in it, it got collected, DONE. Then some council genius clearly had a breakdown over landfill and decided what we all needed in our lives was MORE BINS. Not one, not two, but a full ****ing rainbow of responsibility sat outside your house like some sort of plastic shrine to poor life choices. Recycling bins, garden bins, cardboard bins, and probably a bin soon for your thoughts and feelings, because apparently, nothing can just go in one place anymore. And God forbid you put the wrong thing in the wrong bin because suddenly you’re basically a criminal and facing a fine like you’ve robbed a bank instead of misplacing a yoghurt pot.

Anyway, I accepted it, I adapted, I became one of those people who stood in the kitchen like a lunatic separating rubbish into categories like I’m running some sort of domestic recycling facility, and just when I thought I’d reached peak bin life… NOW they’ve introduced a FOOD WASTE BIN. Not just a bin either, oh no, a MOTHER BIN with a BABY BIN inside it. I’m sorry, but what in the actual **** is that about??? So now I’ve got this tiny baby bin in my kitchen that fills up every 2 minutes because, shock horror, a family of 5 eats food, then I’ve got to take the bag outside to the mother bin like I’m completing some sort of Olympic bin relay that nobody asked for. And I’m sat here thinking… WHAT THE **** IS EVEN GOING IN MY NORMAL BIN NOW??? Because apparently food goes in one, cardboard in another, recycling somewhere else, garden waste somewhere else, so what’s left??? AIR??? MY SANITY??? THE LAST THREAD OF MY PATIENCE???

And can we just address the fact that I am essentially now providing FREE STORAGE for the council on MY OWN LAND. These ugly bastards are sat on my garden where I could have had a lovely border, some flowers, a bit of peace, but no, I’ve got a ****ing bin exhibition going on outside my house. I should be charging them rent at this point, and if they fine me for not complying, I’ll happily deduct it from the YEARS of unpaid storage fees they owe me because I never signed up to house this plastic army.

And these new bins?? Built like absolute ****. A light breeze and they’re off. Storm Dave comes through, and they’ll be halfway down the M1. We’re going to need EMA air traffic control just to manage rogue bins flying through the neighbourhood. Honestly, a gust of a fart would send one of these airborne, and some poor bugger’s going to be taken out on a morning dog walk because a food waste bin’s decided to go on a journey. Health and safety haven’t even begun to unpack that.

I’m telling you now I am DONE. I am 40+, menopausal, and I no longer have the capacity to deal with this level of absolute nonsense in my life. When that bin turns up at my house, it is going STRAIGHT BACK via the arsehole of whoever delivers it with immediate effect. Enough is enough. The government can push people so far, and this, THIS is my limit. Anyone else, or am I about to go to war with the council on my own???

With acknowledgements to the original author on: Long Eaton:Spotted, on Facebook.