Prenguin

Scribblings of Robs

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    11 Mar 2009

    Average Girl: Taking the rubbish out.

    I can’t remember exactly where I was. I do remember that It had been a really long day .

    It was also a million degrees outside.

    I thought I would be helpful and take the rubbish out.

    This was pretty simple. All I had to  do was get a rather full, black bag on the third floor, down the stairs and into the  one of the bins that lined the driveway.

    The bag was quite heavy . On my mission to be a modern, independent woman I brushed aside help from the guys.

    I was ok for the first flight. I heard a sort of tearing noise. Was pretty sure it wasn’t the bag though ( in hindsight.. what else could it have been Robyn). Second flight. Bag really straining. I am picking up the pace because have realised tearing is actually coming from bag. Bag splits…. cans, papers and apple cores burst out and slinky down the stairs ( but with less grace).

    This was still ok.

    The worst part was the expired yoghurt that has made it’s way out the tub …. and onto my toes, legs and several stairs. Due to heat, yoghurt was like soup. It was also full of bits of strawberry.

    I tried to piece the bag back together. Failed miserably. Picked it up and ran towards the bins. Yoghurt happily snail-trailing behind me.

    Get to the bins. But of course… every single bin is full. Except for the very last one,  that you struggle to open and to a girl standing with her arms full of the remnants of a full black bag,  the end of the driveway seems very far.

    So, it is still a million degrees. Yet I have made it to the end of the driveway and I am now fighting with a wheelie bin,throwing strawberry-flavoured, chunky yoghurt everywhere. Hands, arms, shirt… lovely.

    Cue sense of humour failure.

    You honestly have to laugh though. So that is precisely what I did.

    There I was, covered in sticky, expired, strawberry- flavoured yoghurt having a stand up argument with a wheelie bin ( who was winning) giggling hysterically to myself.

    Finally persuaded the bag and most of its contents into the bin.

    Then traipsed back and forth up the stairs cleaning up the yoghurt.

    To all those that know and love me.. this is most likely the reason I cannot stand  yoghurt.

    After what felt like several hours, I was finally finished. I went back upstairs, only to knock into someone and be drenched in coca-cola.

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      • sense of humour failure
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  • Ex-Actress. Blogs. Digital. Mobile. Gets Hiccups. Loves bad puns. Hates spiders. Understands Offside Rule. Will own R8. Queen of the Typo.

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