I Can Be a Complicated Communicator

I live at the bottom of a hill, where the two road of my neighborhood converge. It has it's advantages, like being close to the mailbox. It provides ease when telling people how to get to my house, and we get to watch other people try and make it up the hills in snow storms while we pull right in.

But, it has a few problems too. For one, our drive way is the bus stop. It is supposed to be the sidewalk, but it never works out that way. So, every morning at 8:20, the students and some parents arrive to get the bus. Oh, did I mention the bus doesn't come until 8:40? When we have the audacity to want to leave our driveway in the morning, they all just stare at us like it is a strange thing to want to do.

The other problem is on trash days, when it gets windy, all the lovely recycling bins that sit precariously on the hills get toppled over and the trash makes its way down the hill to our lawn. All night you can hear the tink-tink of cans and the slunk-slunk of milk jugs. And, come morning, no one ever comes to pick it up.

Why do I mention these things? Because they drive me crazy. I mean plain, straight bonkers. And, can I control these things or do anything about them? No. In a word, no. I hate the energy I waste on such things. But, here I am, the wind is howling and I'm listening to the garbage make its parade. And, it kills me. It kills me. I wish it didn't, but for some reason I can't help it.

I have too many things in my life that are like that. Things I can't control that drive me mad. I wish all the time for the strength others seem to possess to let this stuff go. Maybe someday, I'll find it. Lord knows I need it. Until then, I figured I'd vent a little and look at some hot men. It may be the only thing keeping me sane.

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