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Dumpster Diving...Almost.

I was good today. When I came home from work and managed to park in front of the apartment, I thought I'd take out the trash from the Escape. I picked up my id (I was still in PT gear), gathered the keys, the empty coke can, water cup, and napkin that had blown forward as I drove home with all the windows down, and walked to the dumpster.

Then I got my uniform and my bags out of the back, locked the Escape, greeted my neighbor, and went through the gate, just in time to see hubby coming down the stairs with a load of laundry. I pulled out my tee shirt from the ball of uniform items, then went inside.

Lunch.

Stripped the sheets off the bed. Too bad it doesn't make itself back up....

Box-packing time. Six boxes of books, one of assorted computer stuff, and one of fragile stuff.

When it comes time to fetch the girlchild from karate, I decide to put my id back into my wallet, because I have class tomorrow on North Island.

No id to be found.

Crap.

So I fetch the girlchild, search the Escape (which is parked in front of the boarded-up window as the next sacrificial vehicle) to no avail.

Come home, set girlchild to making herself a sandwich for dinner. Yeah. I'm a great mom. Fetch broom and stepstool, grab roll of the crappy packing tape on the way out the door, figuring I might use a loop of it on the end of the broom handle and maybe not have to get into the dumpster. No plan on how to get out of the dumpster.

Pew! Flies everywhere. Ugh. Use broom handle to prop up the lid. Move a bag, and there's the cup I threw away...and under it, my id. No diving. YAY!

Walk back inside considering what a lucky idiot I am.

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