Procrastination Vs. Disgusting, Lazy Pig

Written from atop a pile of dirty clothes and old pizza boxes by Killer

Living alone is both a blessing and a curse. I can let my apartment become the epitome of filth and disgust, but once it gets out of control I can not blame it on a roommate or significant other.

A few days ago I collected all the garbage that had mysteriously accumulated on my counter tops and end tables, bagged it up and placed the bag right in front of the door. The rationale was, I would now be forced to take the refuse to the garbage shoot, which is inconveniently located all the way down the hall from my apartment. The fatal flaw in my plan, however, is my amazing ability to procrastinate and then ignore a problem. The garbage bag has since been unceremoniously kicked to the side and still sits, dejected and confused, awaiting its journey to wherever it is the garbage shoot leads.

Usually I clean up my apartment right before someone is to visit. I am diligent at appearing clean. I will clean my apartment from top to bottom, but lately my apartment has become a testament to my ever-depressing social life. Since no one has been to my apartment, there is no reason to clean. I returned from my vacation almost two weeks ago, but my suitcase is still lying in the middle of my living room floor. Even worse, it is open, since I have been digging through it in the hope that a clean pair of underwear might be hidden somewhere in the back. Once again my faulty reasoning said to put it in the middle of the living room, so I could not avoid it and wait two weeks to empty it properly and store it away. One would think that after 33 years I would know me better, but lately it seems as if I just met myself.

I need to collect all the empty bottles and to go boxes off my kitchen counter. It would do me some good to get rid of all the junk mail that keeps appearing on my table. My concern with carrying this out is I don't want two bags of garbage gathered at my door. It is hard enough to step over one bag on the way out, and trip over it on the way back in. Two would quickly become a fire hazard or potential lawsuit, should a burglar trip over them while sneaking in under the darkness of night.

If only the garbage shoot wasn't so damn far away. If only the management of my apartment building would respond reasonably to my repeated complaints and requests for a garbage shoot to be placed closer to my apartment. If only my window were not painted shut so I could toss the bags out them. My life would be so much easier with at least one of these if's corrected. I don't ask for all of them, one would do.

I think I am going to go through the garbage bags to make sure there is nothing with my name or apartment number on it, and then just leave them in the elevator. Somebody is sure to spot them and take them to the garbage shoot for me.