Split Personality

Part dumpster-diver, part Howard Hughes. That's me.

Today is trash day. The neighbors have put out this bookshelf, and it is taking ALL of my self-discipline not to swipe it. It’s a maneuver I’ve done before for a lesser reward—a very nice glass door that The Jazzy One had set curbside. He has the same floorplan that we do, so it should have fit.

It did not.

It sat in a most inconvenient (and inconspicuous) place in our garage for at least six months before we covertly sneaked it into our car under the cover of darkness and delivered to the Habitat for Humanity people. 

They were so grateful and thanked us with such sincerity that I felt like a schmuck for days.

Possibly weeks.

This bookshelf looks to be in good shape. Why would anybody put a perfectly good bookshelf out on trash day?

I wonder if I’m strong enough to carry it to our garage. Probably. Or I could always use the Little Tikes plastic wagon. I’ve done that move before, too. (One must be exceptionally nonchalant when wheeling away neighbors' castoffs in a Little Tikes wagon.)

What if they are getting rid of it because a dog or cat sprayed it?

YUCK!

What if it has termites?

YIKES!

What if it has bedbugs?

EEK!

Could I continue to live in a house in a neighborhood with an alley-mate with bedbugs? It’s almost too terrible to consider.

Okay. I could take it, and if there is anything even remotely suspicious about it, I could sell it on Craigslist.

But then they’d think we were the ones with bedbugs.

I can’t take it!

I just can’t take it.

My cover story for taking this photo involves their lovely new fence. Totally photoworthy, don't you think?