When I was growing up, I had my list of chores. I had to clean my room, I occasionally had to vaccum the house, mow the lawn, etc... There was one that I hated more than anything and that was to take out the trash. What I hated about it was that it was a multiple-step job. You have to take the bag out, tie it, take it where it needs to go, and then re-bag.
The part that angered me the most about taking out the trash was that I would always forget that last step. I cannot tell you how many times I would be sitting on my couch watching television or playing Nintendo 64 and my mom's voice would chime in with, "Get in here and put a garbage bag in the trash can!"
I would mutter incomprehensible words of anger to myself and slowly work my way into the kitchen to finish my job.
Fast forward 15 years. I took the trash out last night. Today, I wiped up something with a paper towel and walked over to the trash can and was about to throw it in there. But, I stopped when I noticed that there was no garbage bag in it.
To help illustrate what's wrong with my life, what did I do about it? Did I go get a trash bag? No. I wrote a blog about it.