"It" Has To Be Done

It's that time of the week again. I dread it every time. Maybe I could skip it this week. I look and I can see that it is not possible. I have to do it now or it won't get done. It's still night morning. It's so dark out except for the single orange security light on the corner of my house. Just past that is darkness. I pick it up from the kitchen. Jesus it's so heavy. I drag it out the back door. It's so quiet. Too quiet. I'm just tripping but I can't help it. After I step outside I check twice to make sure the door is locked. Heaven forbid someone sneaks in the house and waits for me to Finnish what has to be done. That's a huge fear I have every week when it's time. That while I'm getting it done someone who is watching in the shadows creeps in while I'm not looking waiting to overpower me and stab me 18 times then strangle me to death. Yes I watch a little bit too much true crime shows but I feel it helps me learn how to better prepare myself, how to protect myself. I see that the door is indeed locked. I can feel assured in that area but now its time for the scarier part. I must take everything and drag it down the long dirt driveway. I'm in the country so after I past that orange security light its pitch black. I'm walking briskly. It's so heavy slowing me down. The stars are so pretty but it only distracts me for a minute. WHAT WAS THAT!! I swear I saw something in the bushes. Keep walking. Walk faster. Now I'm hearing things. It's just animals but I can't help but think what if. What if it's a serial killer lurking in the shadows waiting to strike. I could almost hear him breathing waiting in the bushes. Snap out of it. I really need to stop watching so many of those shows. There is nothing there. Finally I've reached the end of the driveway and I can leave it there. Oh my god! Did I really lock the door? I know I have. Still the what if creeps in.  My boys are in there looking all cute asleep in their beds. I walk back as fast as I can trying to keep from twisting my ankle on rocks on the driveway. I reach the door and it is locked. I hurriedly unlock it and rush inside and slam the door shut. I double check to make sure I've locked it back up. I breath a sigh of relief. I made it. The boys are safe. I'm alive!

What was the "it" that I was dragging to the end of the driveway? What was the "it" that has to be done every week? Well the trash of course silly. You didn't know how dangerous it is to take out the trash did you. That's the only reason I need a man is to take out my trash every week it's not safe out there for a single mother.