June 9, 2014 at 7:36 pm (Uncategorized) (, , , )

I know this may come as a shocker, but sometimes I screw up.

Friday morning, Scott and I hit the road to drive down to Southern Indiana as I was a bridesmaid in one of my best friend’s wedding on Saturday.  When we got in his car I commented how there was a lot of trash floating around and he told me that he would clean it all out once we reached my mom’s house.  About halfway into our drive, he was hungry so I dropped him off at a Subway and took his car to fill up the tank.  As I did so, I thought it would be really sweet of me to go ahead and throw out a lot of the trash that had accumulated on his floor and in his console.  I really did think I was being helpful and would be saving him some work later on but boy was I mistaken.  I picked him back up and we got back on the road – about 20 minutes into the drive he opened his console and started freaking out, asking where all of his papers were.  To be honest, I thought everything in there was old receipts and that’s what I threw out.  How was I supposed to know that he had some very important phone numbers written on one such receipt?  I mean, aren’t phone numbers supposed to be kept in, oh I don’t know, your phone?  So an argument ensued where he was upset for my not listening to him when he said he would go through the trash later and me being upset with him not being more responsible about saving contacts in his phone.  Of course, he did ask me not to touch anything so he was in the right but MAN I hate when he’s right so I was being just a tad bitchy myself.  It didn’t help that one of the only things we argue about is the fact that I’m constantly cleaning and sometimes that frustrates him because I move/throw out things he still needs.  So I offered to turn around and go back to the gas station, not really thinking he’d take me up on it.  But he did, so I did.

I was in flip flops and shorts. Talk about nasty.

We got to the gas station and I parked next to the can I had emptied his oh-so-important receipts into.  And it was empty.  There were two girls in gas station uniforms walking around cleaning the grounds and they confirmed that they had just emptied all of the cans.  I looked forlornly at Scott as the girls pointed to the nearby dumpster and he reiterated that he really needed those phone numbers.  Super lame but as I didn’t want him holding this blunder of mine over my head for basically the rest of my life, I decided to suck it up.  Trying not to think about my recently manicured nails, I used a nearby piece of cardboard to lean on as I carefully balanced myself over the side of the dumpster.  It was luckily empty sans a handful of bags at the very bottom, but they weren’t exactly easy to reach and I absolutely didn’t want to have to climb inside the damn dumpster.  I found a paint roller to the side of the dumpster and, stretching as far as I could, pulled the bags over and began ripping them open.  I dug through five in all before finally finding the missing receipt, phone numbers intact.  Glory be and all that jazz.

We hit the road after I spent a good bit of time washing any exposed body parts in the bathroom and made it to my mom’s with plenty of time to take a long shower before we had to go to the wedding rehearsal dinner.  Which was good because I kept getting whiffs of garbage as I drove – this could’ve been entirely in my imagination but it probably wasn’t.  So gross.  Scott did thank me profusely for all of my hard work, even though it was my fault in the first place, and I made it very clear he wasn’t allowed to bring it up ever again since I fixed it in the end.

The things we do for love.  And to avoid having to listen to a lecture about cleaning too much every time I get in his car or too close to a trash can.  I learned my lesson though and his car can remain cluttered until the day he trades it in!


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