Why I Hate Letting Stuff Go...

(And no, this still isn't the uncomfortable explanation of what exactly went wrong with me last week.)

I've lived in my current neighborhood for going on four years now. I'd like to think that I know the area somewhat well. At the very least, I know it well enough to expect certain things. For example, I know that despite being lined, draped, and otherwise covered with overhanging trees, at least one knucklehead is going to set off every single piece of fireworks they can on the fourth of July. Now even if every single item used was legal to fire off in the city limits (and actually, none of them are), it still wouldn't be legal to fire them off on my block, and for some reason ridiculously close to my side of the street.

But you have to understand, I really wasn't in the mood nor was I so driven insane last week that I would try to stick my head out the door and indicate to anyone that they shouldn't be doing that (especially near my house). And while I'm sure that the police would eventually come if I called them, I'm also sure that since they're probably getting about a thousand reports of fireworks, shots fired, etc. that night, by the time they spun by my block any of the offenders would be gone.

So I let it go. I figure that they probably won't set anything on fire (or at least nothing that can't be put out), and it's just not worth the effort. What's the harm, right?

Cut to this morning as I come home from work (and yes, this is me coming home from work at 7:30 in the morning in light to medium spurts of rain). Since it is trash pickup day, I decide to make sure I roll my trashcan (which I had recently been cited for leaving at the curb too long) to the curb. And since it's also a recycling pickup day, I decided to roll my recycling bin (which wasn't picked up two weeks ago) closer to the curb, since I want to make sure they pick it up. For some reason, I thought the bin felt a little light, and for some reason that prompted me to take a look inside. After all, no point in rolling it anywhere if it's empty.

So imagine my surprise when I open the lid and find an assortment of used and partially wet fireworks containers inside. Yes, the knuckleheads that fired off all of that illegal crap the week before apparently decided to use my recycle can as a trash bin. And what's worse, I'm more than positive that, despite the fact that I've seen people load all kinds of crap that they technically aren't supposed to into their recycling cans, mine would be the one can that someone checked, found all this junk in, and systematically reported to whoever it is that would come out and fine me for improper use of said can (and probably want to try to fine me for illegal fireworks while they were at it).

So I ended up spending a few minutes this morning outside the front of my house, in the rain, transferring fireworks garbage (which oddly also contained a bird carcass) to my garbage can. Not exactly the highlight to my day that I wanted.

Of course, I don't know why it bothered me that much. It's not like I could have done much about it even if I had known about it. But darned if I don't fine it irritating when people go the extra mile to be as ignorant as possible in a situation.