Trash Day, Snowstorms, and a Lesson in Self-Grace

Our garbage day is Thursday.

I put my bins out Wednesday night like always. Somewhere between Wednesday night and Thursday morning, the city got slammed with a snowstorm that shut everything down. Streets iced over. Plows lagged. Schedules went out the window.

I left the bins out, assuming they would circle back Friday. They didn’t. By Saturday, the wind had knocked everything over. Bags ripped open. Recycling scattered. It looked like I didn’t give a damn.

And I felt awful about it.

I told myself the usual story. I was the lazy neighbor. The irresponsible one. The guy who lets his trash sit on the lawn making the whole block look worse.

So I bundled up, swore at the wind, and went outside for the first time in four days, fully prepared to drag my shame back up the driveway.

Then I looked down the street.

Nearly every house still had their bins out. Knocked over. Waiting. Hoping. Exactly like mine.

That moment landed hard.

Not because anyone was right or wrong. Not because we should have all rushed out sooner or done better. None of that matters. What mattered was realizing how fast I’d turned inconvenience into self-judgment. How quickly I’d made myself the problem when the situation was shared.

Before you start tearing yourself apart, it helps to look around. Odds are, a whole lot of people are standing in the same mess you are.

In the grand scheme of things, there are far more important concerns than trash on the lawn after a snowstorm.

Which brings me to today.

Today I’m tackling the mountain of clean laundry downstairs. The one that’s been quietly growing on the folding table. I can wash clothes immediately. Folding them, hanging them, and putting them away can take five to seven business days on a good week.

Instead of comparing myself to anyone else, I’m claiming a few hours to handle my own small backlog. No guilt. No narrative. Just doing what I can, when I can.

If you’re chipping away at your own little projects today, I hope they go smoothly. And if they don’t, I hope you remember you’re probably not the only one with bins still out front.