Dear All the single ladies

I had such good intentions of getting back my blog regularity.
I just really don't see it happenin'.

Here's why:
Today I woke up late but managed to scramble around and get into my garage at 6:15.
I had to.
I had to get the overloaded, overwhelmed garbage can out to the curb. The lid didn't shut on it and I didn't want to leave it out last night to become some night dweller's buffet all over my front yard.
It has wheels but doesn't roll because it has too much stuff in it (because I was a virtuous person who cleaned up her garage on a vacation day...I mean, really? Where are my points?)
I pushed, pulled, and dragged it up the slight incline of my driveway.
When I made it to the curb, I had to turn it (because the garbage men are very attached to the rules) to face the street.
Have a mentioned that the lid didn't close?
There, at an ungodly dark hour of the morning to be out and moving in public, my garbage can nearly killed me.
I shoved. It started to tilt backwards. That would be in my direction. The lid flopped and tripped me just as the top box came crashing out and all of us landed in a splat on the sidewalk.
Sure, it's funny to you.
You weren't the one who then had to figure out how to get the @#$%&*^ can standing back up. From underneath it. Or the one who had to pick up the broken bits of fallen box and contents. Or the one who had to hobble back to the car on a bum knee with a skinned hand. Or the one who had to drive to work, feeling faintly nauseous because it isn't every day that one is nearly squashed by a falling trash can on a dark, deserted suburban street.

I could have died there. I'm just sure of it.
Just get in my face today to tell me how lucky I am to be single, how I should have all this extra time, and no worries. Just try it.

Thank God there were donuts when I got here. I have a lump on my knee, a tender hand, and am crashing from the sugar. Someone take my internet access away quick. There's no telling what I'll say.