It currently is 4:50 am.
I normally do not post at this hour of the morning. Am I posting because today is Thanksgiving, my favorite holiday? No. Is it because I was so excited about the turkey, the bountiful dinner, the football all day, and time spending with relatives and friends in a relaxing atmosphere? No. Then what could it possibly be to make one throw off the covers, fly out of bed hobbling across the room to get a pair of shoes, struggle for some pants and a shirt, while ignoring Mrs. Kfred repeated half awake questions of, "What's wrong? Are you OK?" and fly out the door with the immediacy of running to (from?) a fire? Why that's simple: Its the grinding of gears and roaring engine of the passing garbage collection truck as he passes by my house. Normally, the guy comes around 11 am in the morning, but today, Thanksgiving, I guess he wants to spend some time with his family and enjoy the holiday as well, so, he started early; before half of the neighborhood even had put their garbage out. I am certain he will get done early today, if for nothing else, as he only collected half of the cans on the route because THEY WEREN"T PUT OUT!
My solution was to simply put my can on the other side of the street with Marv, the Neighbor's, and then they could pick them both up together on the return pass down the street. The truck in my neighborhood is automated and only uses a single driver. I noted through the window that the mechanized arm on the truck made only one dump when it finally arrived across the street. Marv's gonna be pissed.