The Eff Word

It's not exactly the first thing that I like to come to my mind when I wake up, but alas today I found it floating up there in my skull at 7:30 this morning. It was a fluke, this type of thing doesn't usually happen to me while I'm on vacation, at least I try to prevent it . It wasn't completely uninspired, I had a reason. Maybe it's not such a big deal to you, but I like my sleep. In fact, I had been enjoying a pleasant dream about a military man turned college student and to be completely honest with you, it was heartwarming. It was just then, as the young man was enjoying his first meal in the cafeteria, that Lunecy*, popped it's ugly head in my bedroom door (and into my dream) firmly demanding that I needed to take the recycling out before the garbage man came. I considered going back to sleep just to spite him, but decided it wasn't worth further hassling so with distane I threw on my the first pair of shoes I could find (pink mocasins) grabbed a sweatshirt from atop the pile of clothes I still have yet to put away and headed to greet the morning with garbage. In a haze I stumbled to tackle the giant heap. With eyes half open I willed my lifeless limbs to collect the empty Aquafina bottles, discared cans of pinto beans (which were quite overdue for removal), and numerous newspaper ads into the bin and out to the garbage can. While pouring his cheerios my brother watched on in shock as though a zombie had entered the house to preform his household chores. After the two trips it took to get the crap into the can I fought to push the bastard down to the curb to join all his other can friends in their weekly get-together.
And the point of the story is??
Trash is gross, even recycling.
Insanity comes with parenthood.
I do not want to be insane. Yet.

*the names have been changed to protect those involved.