Wednesday, 17 September 2008

I Have A Big Problem

We're supposed to be going away tomorrow to visit my parents. I say supposed to be because I have a large problem. I've already started feeling tense, I've got a sore jaw from grinding my teeth and I feel a wee bit stressed. It's a five hour drive with two little ones, but that's not the reason I am feeling tense, I'm down with the drive. The reason I am feeling a little tense about this trip... It's garbage night tomorrow night, and I am going to miss my date with my favourite bin.

I've been thinking of saying to my mum and dad that we can't come. Something's come up. We'll drive up on Friday instead.

But really, I should just book a lobotomy. What's wrong with me? Why am I so enamoured with this bin? It's because of the presents it ALWAYS brings me.

This is how wrong I have become. I've been trying to think of someone I could ask to go through it for me tomorrow night. The only person I know around here is my mother-in-law and I don't think she'd be up for scrummaging through the wheelie bin. So no go there. The only other people around here that know me work in shops. I can't imagine saying, 'Hi can I get a kilo of mince and can you please stake out this bin for me?'. Not going to work.
If I asked my friends that don't live close by, they'd have to drive at least 40 minutes - and even then - they would probably book me in for some electric shock treatment for even considering asking them.
What can I do? Stake out that bin before we drive off? Pack the car, go park outside 'the house' until they put out the garbage and then drive? (Don't worry - I have thought of this, and buying doughnuts and playing out my favourite cop shows).

Last night, just before Matt and I sat down for dinner I told him I had to go out for ten minutes. I didn't tell him where I was going. Later he asked me how my walk had been. I said 'what walk?' (I did my walk earlier in the day so was puzzled why he was asking me this), he said the one you went on when you went out for ten minutes..

Oops. Yes well at that time, I wasn't walking. I was doing a quick drive-by of 'the house' to check out if it was council pick up day (it wasn't) in their street.

Now this is where I get really twisted. My sister Choc was chatting to a woman who lives in my suburb. Choc was telling this woman about my pot of gold at the end of the rainbow (read - my garbage bin). Then Choc rang me and asked me what street 'the house' is in. I wouldn't tell her. Nope. Not telling. Still not telling. No. No. No. Not telling! I even made up a street name. I really am a junk junkie if I am going to lie about this.

What did I think was going to happen? This woman would find out where 'the house' is and next time I turned up for garbage day, there'd be somoene selling tickets to the garbage bin, first in first serve. That garbage bin is so good the line would be wrapped around the block, everyone vying for their chance to stick their head in it, get up close and personal with it, it might need bodyguards.
So I am missing my bin tomorrow. (Did I ever think I'd be missing a bin? No, never.) That's my big problem.
PS - Formatting isseeeews c/- blogger.

24 comments:

Hoppo Bumpo said...

I love it - you do make me laugh!

I'm wondering though whether you're going to have to go off to one of those 12-step programs ... you know ...

Hello, my name is Potty Mouth Mama. And I'm a wheelie-bin-o-holic.

Taccolina said...

Oh my goodness... very. very funny. You're going to have to go "Cold Wheely" at some point, you know.

Lisa said...

You crack me up in every post.

'Hi can I get a kilo of mince and can you please stake out this bin for me?'

Good for you for keeping Mum on the location of your bin. Finders keepers.

Michelle said...

That brought tears to my eyes it made me laugh so much!

What a dilemma you have - try not to think about that bin the WHOLE time you're away won't you..

Catherine said...

lol this is brilliant! The lure of the wheelie bin is too great, but have a lovely trip too.

a girl called fickle said...

Oh you junkie you! Sick and twisted thing is I would actually do it for you if I was home tonight. Dang. You couldn't trust me though. Like a surrogate mother of sorts I'd want to keep them! x

Fifi Flowers said...

Hilarious! My first visiting you and you give me the best laugh!
And I love the name of your blog too!
I don't blame you... never give out good bin location!
ENJOY your trip!

Georgie Love said...

Oh god no! That's your bin! There will be no bin sharing! I have a severe case of bin-envy, but I respect your bin-rights! :-)

Cass said...

I'll check the bin for you but I get first dibs on anything I pull out!

Kirsty said...

You could be addicted to worse things. Don't give the location up - it's all yours.

Anna said...

Its 2;30am and I woke up as you do when pregus, and thought it must be "bin time" for you.

oh little Mama, what to do what, doughnuts does sound good though!

Mrs.French said...

I wouldn't tell anyone about this bin...it's yours. Good for you for fighting the addiction so you can visit your family...I feel your pain...I would help if I could. Oh and let's start our project next week!

cindy said...

I am probably too late but the idea came to me in the middle of the night, beacon in the bin then you could take yourself to the tip, turn it on and find the location of all there fabulous things, with your like you might even find more treasure. That would be true dedication to the cause.

mellimoomoo said...

You are hilarious! I'm with the others - no way should you give out your bin address - not even to your sister. Maybe you could just nip out from your Mum's for a quick "walk" and get back to the bin before the council collectors? What's a 5-hour drive in the middle of the night!!
This guy is nearly as mad as you... you'll love it: http://billacquisitions.blogspot.com/

Hila said...

haha, this is hilarious! No, I don't think you're insane; besides, what kind of humans would we be without our own particular "quirks"?

mayaluna said...

I could hang out with you all evening...haven't laughed out loud this much (while reading, no less) in a long time. I just popped over from Kirsty's but I'll have to make a regular stop here to check in on you and your delicious bin. I understand your torment and hope you find a solution before you hop in your car...but don't give up the location whatever you do! Have great trip!

Stacey said...

I'll stake out the bin for you (but of course that would mean divulging the location). You'd have to kill me afterwards, wouldn't you?

Ellieboo said...

I am imagining the owners complaining, and the police coming to take you away and you padlocking yourself to the bin refusing to let it go and seeing you on the 5oclock news - ha ha ha.

That bin is the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow - and finders keepers I reckon.

Sarah said...

You are a nutter. I was asking that women whether it was her throwing stuff out, because she was talking about quilt pieces she had trown out!!!!(She assures me she took them to the salvos) She doesn't want to stalk your bin - anyway she's in Perth yelling at her grandchildren, beacause her daughter is holidaying in France - hows that? Anyway - think of all those treasures Mum has stored up for you to go through.....a whole house worth I hear....drive carefully.

Sarah said...

Note: Trown is how we in the west say thrown.

meet me at mikes - crafty! said...

well... look at you... i think you need the ten step program - or else throw off the shackles of convention and DO WHAT YOU LIKE AND TO HELL WITH IT! Yes. DO that. I want to watch and see what happens. Send me your address and I'll send you something from the Amazing Wall! Hurry hurry do it!

Claire (ethel loves fred) said...

Man, I wouldn't be leaving that bin, not for anyone - they would have to come to me, for as long as it kept spitting out treasure!!

skinnyGLASSESgirl said...

HA I didn't want to spill the beans where the new best thriftstore was in town... it was so hard doing so!I love dumpster diving

Bec said...

Oh my....this is hilarious. As usual. I think you should write a book about your wheelie bin exploits. Maybe you could call it "Confessions of a bin stalker". Or pen your wheelie bin devotion in the form of a poem "O Wheelie Bin! My Wheelie Bin!"