I might as well start by ‘fessing up that I am a teeny bit obsessed with the dustbins where I live. I think I have always been efficient with trash management wherever I’ve lived, something which gets harder and harder to do as the local Council issue ever-changing directives.
Where I live is a garden flat with its own side access which means I have to walk past the dustbins to get to my front door. No-one else in the building has to do that. Thus you might consider that I am the most affected by the bins. I do so consider. And, again, I’ll confess I am the self-appointed bin czar in as much as every Wednesday I put the bins out for collection very early on Thursday morning.
The rules where we live are that the first very early 6 a.m. collection is for recyclables and the second later collection is for the non-recyclable stuff. The other rules are that if we don’t put the bins on the pavement they won’t be emptied, and that if we don’t drag them back in by a certain hour awful things will befall us. Recyclables must be in the appropriately coloured bags and food waste in the specially-provided composting bin, and the rest of it must be bagged up in black sacks and in a bin. Anything on the pavement will not be collected, nor will anything that is dumped.
Suffice to say my neighbours ignore all of those rules and I try to compensate for them because if I do not, I will be living cheek by jowl with all of it. No-one has helped me with any of this since February 2008, they just leave it to the officious old biddy in the ground floor flat and why not? That’s what I would have done too were I their age. I leave the bins on the pavement hoping they will at least bring them back inside our front garden. Occasionally someone does that. It’s rare, but I am grateful when they do.
I have even, since 2008, paid for those bins to be cleaned once a month by Solomon and his bin-cleaning team, though I gave up that expenditure earlier in the year when I thought I was moving house. Which means they are exceedingly grubby right now, beneath my threshold actually. And I’m not even OCD!
Last week I put the bins out on Wednesday night as normal. Then I didn’t leave the house again till Sunday when I discovered they were still on the pavement. Sigh. Ah, then I realised it was because they hadn’t been emptied, and neither had the bins of my neighbours or the rest of the road.
On Sunday night/Monday morning I went on the Council’s website to report this, to discover that you must phone in to do that. I did that at 8 a.m. yesterday morning, only to be told to call back at 9 a.m. which I duly did. I asked had anyone in my street reported this already? No. No shocker there, then. I think I must be the only person who doesn’t want to live knee deep in ****.
OK, so here are the local council’s rules in these circumstances. If the dustbin men do not show on Thursday, you cannot report it on the same day. But you must report it within 48 hours, i.e. Friday in this example because by the time I discovered it on Sunday and reported it first thing Monday, it was too late. The parrot at the Council just kept repeating that there was nothing she could do about it now.
Here’s the conundrum, then:
- The bins are full
- The council can’t empty them now
- And we are not allowed to put anything, even bagged, onto the pavement. If it’s not in a bin, they won’t take it.
- So where are we supposed to put this week’s trash?
The parrot had no answer. I kept using logic until I ran out of patience. OK, I said, we have a problem then… henceforth and forever more we are going to be one week behind. This week you will collect last week’s, next week you will collect this week’s, and so on. What is your solution to this problem of your own creation?
Answer came there none.
I’m not proud to confess I hung up on the parrot without warning or farewell greeting, and shouted a lot of surprisingly rude expletives at my telephone handset which must have shocked the neighbours too since the office window was open.
I took to Facebook at 09.28 to rant and rave about it, not the first time that my FB friends have seen me going on and on and on about the dustbins:
The Council appear not to have emptied our dustbins last Thursday which means our bins are out on the pavement. And full up. They cannot send anyone to empty them now and we must wait until Thursday for that. We are not allowed to put black sacks on the pavement, nothing is collected unless it is in a bin. OK that means was have a spare week’s trash and nowhere to put it and the Council do not have a solution for this. So this could roll on indefinitely while our houses fill up with trash. Surely some sort of health hazard? Council person was unable to connect me to anyone with a solution for this. And no-one from our street phoned within the requisite 48 hour window to report it. You cannot report it for the first day anyway and if you miss the second day ‘cos you didn’t know, you’ve blown it and missed your window. Hmm. I had to hang up in disgust and shout a mouthful of obscenities at my telephone. I shall be putting my black sacks on the street. #NotMyProblem
Brendan, Jo, Louise, Jenny, Rosie and Michael chipped in with useful and supportive responses which is really what you want when you rant on FB about some sort of injustice, however small. It was an insoluble problem; I don’t like those. I have such a logical brain I was really grumpy. I remember a coach I admire describing a strategy I had attempted to employ where you side with the other party and enjoin with them in creating the solution. I had attempted that and failed. Insufficient staff training in problem-solving. Or no will on the part of the Council I suspect.
I went about my day. I enjoyed my day. Anger is often very empowering and I powered through the trash (ramming another bag in where a bag wouldn’t go!), the laundry, the weekend washing up, the end-of-the-month accounts, a blog post, my Club 100 weekly check-ins and live group with them between 2 and 4. And also my homework for week 3 of Jacqueline Rogers’ The Manifestation Game. Week 3 is entitled POWER. And the homework came into my inbox on Friday.
I had plans to do it on Friday but somehow that didn’t happen, or over the weekend. Unusually I went out on Sunday to lunch with my family. Had I not, I wouldn’t have known about the non-bin collection but I would probably have done my POWER homework instead.
The homework was unexpectedly powerful (geddit!?). And I worked through it very diligently sometime after 4 p.m. And while I was doing it I became aware of a noise in the distance. What was that? No, surely it couldn’t be? Yes! It’s the BIN MEN!!
Back to Facebook, natch. To tell the end of the story:
Hark! What’s that beautiful noise? It’s only the BIN LORRY!!!!! Lambeth Council have made the (im)possible possible. I’ve just been out and first off I put up a thumb to the chap, then two thumbs while mouthing the words “thank you” – he was a way down the street by then. This bodes exceptionally well Jacqueline Rogers for my Manifestation Game as I was just going through this week’s homework right now when something I wished for earlier today came true. I also took inspired action and phoned the Council at 9 a.m. and was told No in no uncertain terms. Wrong!
And I shared a link to Gabrielle’s Dreams Can Come True – a great song, and a story about a little bird landing on my window ledge during the homework. Music is playing such a vital role in this Manifestation Game, such a great way to raise your vibration which is an important key to all of this certainly.
I must confess that complaining about the Council is NOT the way to make your dreams come true, generally speaking. And I couldn’t really see how I’d manifested this. But Jacqueline commented wisely and in keeping with what she’s teaching us: “Wowser. That is brilliant! Inspired action indeed. What you wanted (vision) versus the current reality (council saying no) and you still focused on your end result = result.
Did I focus on my end result? Or did I just forget all about it and get on with my day?
Jacqueline shared more useful stuff with me, saying:
I particularly love the manifestation of the dustbin men. I read your post about them not coming despite not collecting and to our logical mind that would be an opportunity for us to go “oh well, I’ll just put out black bin bags then”.
You stated what you wanted (vision) and you were aware of the current reality (Council saying no) and you still focused on your end result = result.
This is the part in the audio that I was stressing. The Secret is a fabulous film, I love that it opened up the Law of Attraction to people who would not have been aware of it simply because it was commercialised. The part that was a bit woolly for me was that there was an inference that you only have to visualise. That is SUPER important AND you also keep focused on the end result when all around you appears to be going wrong.
That is what makes you an amazing manifestor, you did not allow your current reality, your thoughts, feelings, beliefs, assumptions to take you off track. The bins were going to be emptied, some way, some how.
Wonder if the bin men have ever had a thumbs up and a mouthed thank you before?
Love it, such a powerful story. Simple and effective manifestation
When your vibration is high the space between the thought and the manifestation, in my experience, is even quicker.
You might not even have had time to formulate a manifestation mantra or even considered it a choice. I absolutely bet you had a thought that you wanted the bins to be emptied … your word is my command (if there were an emoticon of a bowing genie it would go here).
I’ve literally manifested what I have asked for seconds after. For example “I’d really love some chocolate” and then been passed a piece from out of the blue. Crowded tube – I’d love a seat, then someone standing up and giving me theirs.
I love all the manifestations of money, business, car, relationships etc and the little ones are just as juicy for me.
You are in the good vibrations 🙂