And to all, a good night…

I don’t have many Christmas traditions.

I hate gingerbread. I have no idea what mistletoe looks like, or where I would buy it. And I have no intention of altering my misbehavior on the off chance some creepy omniscient doll is casing the joint for some fat man in a red suit who may be breaking into my house late at night. But there is one thing. Last night, I slept in the living room, so I could set the alarm for 5:45am without waking my husband. Why?

Because today is the last day of trash pickup for the week before the actual holidays (so nice of Hanukkah to coincide with Christmas Eve this year).



Each year on this day, I lie/sit/walk around, awaiting the clamorous rumble of that NYC Sanitation truck as it makes its way down the street. I’ve got my shoes and my coat on*, ready to scoot down the stairs to make sure I don’t miss them before they leave my block. For New York’s Strongest, I’ve always got a smile and a cheery greeting, and of course, a $15 gift card** to some coffee or sandwich establishment.***

It’s the least I can do. It’s a hard job, and they do a great job in my neighborhood. They never complain about the stuff I leave out for them (you don’t want to know). The best part of this day is usually that it’s still pretty early, so I can just go back to bed for a couple of hours once I get back in the house.

Except today.

Today, they didn’t come until 11:30am.

After 6 hours of coffee, minor calisthenics, and mind-numbing interwebs surfing, there wasn’t any chance of going back to bed.

Whatever. Merry Christmas!


* I don’t wear a bra. (a) It’s too early. I don’t want to. (2) I’m wearing a coat anyway, so none’s the wiser. (c) It’s Christmas. If they can tell I’m not wearing one, why not let them enjoy the show?

** I swear that I once read that city employees aren’t allowed to accept gifts with more than $20 value. I’m pretty sure I did. I’m not just cheap.

*** I won’t be disclosing the name of said establishments, as it turns out I won’t be getting a commission.