A few weeks ago I bought a nice round pumpkin to sit by my fireplace. This is the extent of my fall decorations. Last week, said pumpkin started to sag in on itself. It was kind of gross. Also, a little depressing to think about how the same will happen to me one day. It was covered in little bugs, which I will never let happen to me, though.
Needless to say the pumpkin had to go. But, I let it stay a few more days, not out of sympathy, but rather to avoid carting it down two flights and all the way to my car, then from my car to the dumpster. I have to stay on top of myself or I'll let all the trashes get to full for the same reason. I don't like handling garbage. Somehow the minute anything--a cupcake, a napkin, a geriatric pumpkin--enters the white plastic bag, it instantly becomes icky by association. So the idea of carrying it with me, putting it in Dirk's trunk, and then heaving it into a dumpster just isn't appealing.
But today I was thinking, it could be worse. What if there was no dumpster? What if there were no waste managers to come empty the dumpster? What if, like in ancient times, all the refuse and pumpkin carcasses were tossed along the edge of the street?
I think my nose would stop working in protest. I'd get used to the mess, then depressed, and end up writing dark poetry about the scent of abandonment on a non-biodegradable bag, the blood of pumpkins on my hands, the destruction of the nuclear family of a fly, and other heavy topics.
So, anyway, while I wish my pumpkin had lived a bit longer, I'm glad it's gone, and I'm super grateful for the waste management system, the good men and women who man those giant trucks, and that two flights and a spin around the parking lot is really not that far to take my trash in exchange for low-odor living quarters.