I'm pretty sure that my wife thinks I hate taking the garbage out. This is simply not so. Forgetful as I may be when it comes to refuse, I rather enjoy taking it down on garbage night. As a matter of fact, the more garbage we have, the more I enjoy taking it down. Tonight was a good night with copious amounts of trash. My peeps make lots of slops.

You see, my driveway is about 22o feet long. On average it's around 85 steps from the cans to the street. During these 85 steps my mind takes a vacation from the day and I seem to zone out into a world of clarity. I'm not sure why it happens when I'm taking out the trash, but I can tell you that I often take more trips than I need to.

Sure, I cold grab a can-on-wheels with my right and my left and carefully coax them down the long, broken-up, ghetto driveway and save a few minutes...it's just...I don't want to save a few minutes. Sometimes I want to escape into the land of the simple task. For me, taking down the garbage cans gives my mind an excuse to stop moving. I'm not sure if you've ever experienced this, but it seems that my mind starts working when it stops moving.

I'll have a problem that is racking my brain and I'm obsessing over it and I can't seem to let it go. It's totally consuming me...it just won't go away. Suddenly I'm moving waste from one point to another and I begin counting. Each step I take I count them off in my mind...one, two, three, four...one, two, three, four...one, two, three, four.

Somewhere in my mindless counting an image becomes clear. A piece of wisdom drops from above. Stars align, and a solution presents itself to me. Always to my surprise, an understanding of something is attained. It's stinky bliss.